Seducing The Doctor
by Emmybooboo
Summary: Rose is pretty sure that the Doctor wants her as much as she wants him. Smut with a story. Lots of sexual tension. Nine x Rose pairing. Mature content.
1. Chapter 1

It had been such a good day. Truly one of the most fun, enjoyable, wonderful days that Rose Tyler had experienced in a very long while. The Doctor had taken her to a wonderfully beautiful planet that, despite much poking and prodding, they had been unable to find anything suspicious or dangerous about. The Doctor was reluctant at first, but Rose had took his hand in hers and asked if he would like to show her the sights and well, things were off from there.

Yezzale turned out to be a stunning planet, complete with sloping mountains and a warm rain that spilled on them while the Doctor was explaining the history of the natives' farming practices. Rose had smiled and nodded, pretending to be totally engrossed in his detailed accounts that he had read in some book, but her mind could hardly believe what was happening. The Doctor and Rose were spending a fun, care-free day together and she was enveloped in bliss. He had just finished his speech when he turned to face her and judge her expression, and suddenly her stomach let out a loud rumble that made her jump and chuckle at the same time. The Doctor's eyes twinkled as he tossed his head back and laughed.

"'Spose we got a bit carried away today. How about some nourishment?" Rose nodded and gave him a brilliant smile as they began strolling into the glimmering downtown. Natives wandered about looking splendid. Their light blue skin shimmered in the evening light, and Rose found herself wanting very much to shimmer like these beautiful natives. A female native caught her eye as the Doctor grabbed her hand and pulled her into what could only be a kind of pub. Rose exchanged a smile with the friendly face and her heart swelled even more with how beautiful the day had turned out.

"We need some grub!" The Doctor cheered with a good-nature smile on his face and that hint of laughter in his eye.

"Aye! Wait, are we pirates now?" She laughed and imitated the Doctor's cheer and bit her lip. The spirit between them was wonderful, and Rose found herself wishing for the hundredth time that day that they could always be like this—happy and content and high on the company of each other. Oh, she enjoyed the adventures very much, but if she was honest with herself in the dark of the night, she was also terrified of what would happen next. Rose spent many nights sleepless wondering if their next adventure was going to be the one that was just too dangerous, just a little too much, and would be their last. But days like today, where the Doctor was a carefree lad with an itch to impress his best mate, those days were just wonderful.

Delicious food on Yezzale, too. Rose was delighted to realize that the slightly yellow tinted goop that arrived in a wooden bowl with black olive-type things was actually a very delicious and fluffy pudding.

"How about drinks, then?" And just like that, the Doctor was ordering them some kind of alcoholic beverage.

"Drinks? Doctor, are you trying to get me drunk?" She grinned at him like a madwoman, hyped up from the endorphins of the day.

"Rose Tyler, you little minx! I most certainly am not. Best intentions, me." He gave her a wink as the beautiful and glowing native man set two wheat colored drinks in front of them.

"Best intentions of making me make a right fool of myself, you!" Rose tossed her head back with laughter and took a generous swallow of the drink anyway, her eyes sparkling and holding eye contact with her Doctor perhaps just a smidgen too long. The Doctor was having a wonderful time, and returned her happy smile while taking his own swallow. The liquid burned on the way down and instantly left Rose's belly swirling with that familiar warmth of a buzz. Truly happy with the effect, Rose took another generous slug.

"Whoa there, you're trying to get yourself drunk, seems to me." His eyes shone with a smile that wasn't quite reaching his big, wide lips. The warmth was spreading around her head now, and she found herself looking right at those lips. Rose pictured pulling him to her by the big ridiculous ears and snogging him senseless.

"Rose?" He was looking at her awfully seriously now, and Rose snapped her mind back to the present. "You okay, there?"

"'Course I am!" And with that, Rose popped up out of her seat and began swaying her way to the dance floor. She couldn't help it, really. It had been such a good, good day and he was being so silly with her and she was buzzing from the intoxicating beverage, and she just couldn't help but sway her hips to the low music and close her eyes. Her body twirled and spun for several minutes before she opened her eyes again, instantly finding the Doctor's eyes locked on her own. He was still sitting at the table, though his hands were clasped around his glass and he shoulders hunched as he leaned forward. Their eyes stayed connected for several moments while Rose felt a blush creep up her neck and the reality of the fact that she had just been dancing around while the Doctor apparently watched her every move. How on earth was that fair?

Capturing her tongue between her teeth and smiling in that way she suspected that he liked, Rose beckoned to him with her finger. She hooked her finger and wagged her eyebrows at him playfully until laughter reached his eyes again and he stood, striding to her with his long legs.

"Rose, I believe you're a bit smashed," His words were gentle against her cheek as he pulled her close to him, swaying their bodies gently. Oh. That was bloody brilliant. The two of them dancing so close. Rose closed her eyes and let her cheek rest against his chest while they danced.

How come they never did this? Oh, right, adventures and running and danger. The feeling of contentment swarmed over Rose quickly, and she found herself pushing her body into him even more, smashing her breasts against him and gripping her fingers tight on his collar.

"Mm? Something wrong?" The Doctor pulled his face back to scan her expression, suddenly concerned with her random grasping at him. If Rose didn't fully suspect that the Doctor was asexual and not at all interested in her, she might have let herself believe that he was enjoying their dance as much as she. But that wasn't it at all, she was sure.

"'m fine, Doctor." Rose closed her eyes again and moved her body with his.

"Think you're due for some rest, Rose. Let's get us some rooms." And with that his hand was in hers, pulling her swiftly to the door and on to the sidewalk outside. "How about a night out? Saw a hotel 'round her somewhere. Might be nice to have a night away from the TARDIS, hmm?" Rose stifled a yawn and allowed herself to be guided towards the hotel. She didn't want the day to end. It had been such a glorious day with such wonderful memories, but here it was coming to a close. Stiffening her upper lip, Rose chastised herself for getting so swept up. Of course the day would end. All of them ended, even the most terrible of days. It was something that Rose usually found comfort in. This fact that no matter how bad things got, eventually it would be a new day was something that Rose clung to when she wasn't sure where her adventures were going to lead.

"Two rooms, please!" The Doctor smiled hugely and paid the man while Rose stood wavering by his side. Maybe she was pretty sloshed, now that they were so close to a bed. She was sort of aware of the man and the Doctor chattering on about something, but soon he was pulling her hand towards a room and unlocking the door. Rose found herself wishing he had asked for just one room, because she'd like nothing more than to collapse into bed with him.

"Here you are, then." He closed the door behind them and splayed his arms out wide in front of him. "How's this?" He grinned and Rose felt a war inside herself. She wanted him so much, but he was so clueless. If he had any idea the things Rose wanted to do to him right then he would never let himself be alone in a room with her again. He had no idea what a minx she really was.

""s lovely, Doctor. Think I'll just...sleep," Rose dropped to the bed and tossed her forearm over her eyes, instantly feeling the comfort of sleep nearby. Her conscious was minutely aware that the Doctor hadn't left, though. She could feel him on the edge of sleep, hovering near her. Oh. He was tucking her in, pulling covers over her and everything.

Rose sighed contentedly and allowed her mind to sink further into the sleep when she heard the Doctor's words being mumbled surprisingly close to her face. In fact, that was her forehead he was kissing with those lips. "Sleep well, lovely girl." She felt him walking away, could feel the absence of his presence almost immediately and could hardly stop the words from tumbling from her intoxicated mouth.

"Not without you," Rose's words were slurred, but there was no denying what she had said. The Doctor froze, a little shocked, and turned on his boot. He stared at her a moment, taking in the sight. Rose Tyler knackered on a bed in a hotel was a true test of his will. No matter how much he wrestled with the idea, one thing was absolutely clear: if he were actually going to cross that line, it would not be while either of them were drunk and might regret it in the morning.

"Right, well. Goodnight then," He forced himself to tear his eyes off of her and walked to the doorway. "I'm in the adjoining room here, if you need anythin." And then he was gone, firmly closing the door that separated them.

Rose sighed loudly on the bed and fisted her hands in her hair. The man was impossible. She could feel something between them most days. In fact, if she had to wager, she'd absolutely bet that the Doctor wanted to kiss her at least three different times a day. She had no idea if he wanted anything besides a kiss, but she was sure he wanted at least that with the way that she was always noticing his eyes on her mouth when she spoke. The fact that he walked out of the room made Rose acknowledge the sinking feeling in her stomach. The one that had been afraid would appear, and had held her captive with fear all this time. She had never made a real move on the Doctor because she suspected there was the chance, no matter how small or large, that he would say no. And then he went and got her drunk, and what did he think would happen? Did he think they would just drink and then be off to bed like this? Of course she would finally have enough grit to say something to him.

The feeling was there. She had been rejected, and her eyes stung with the feeling of tears that were dangerously close to spilling over. She adored that man, had offered herself to him, and he had said no. It was one part of her worst fear, with the second being that in the morning he would whisk her back home and be done with silly, infatuated Earth girls.

Rose stood and wandered around the hotel room, bumping in to a night stand and some kind of chest before discovering what she wanted. Every hotel had a minibar, and since the Doctor was paying...

Rose pulled out a bottle of clear liquid and sniffed. The alcohol stung her eyes, and she allowed one tear to finally escape as she poured some of the drink into the paper cup. Rose downed that first sip, and quickly refilled as she realized this might be exactly how she would forget her humiliation. Taking the bottle and cup back to the bed, Rose began undressing clumsily. Her hoodie was tossed across the room and she kicked her trainers off with great effort. Another sip, and then it was off with the denim and tank top. A drunken flush began creeping up her neck as the intoxication egged her on. Left in her knickers and bra, Rose settled herself on the bed and poured another drink.

* * *

In the adjoining the room, the Doctor fights a battle. He had been thinking about Rose in a very unusual, and rather sexual, way since he met her. The Doctor had spent a lot of time thinking about her, actually, though he hadn't come to any conclusions. Relationships with humans are difficult. They are painful and end tragically and even though he has never actually had one, he can imagine the devastating feelings he would have when she eventually died. To share that with her and then have her leave him so that she could go have a normal life, even. It was all possible. She couldn't want him forever, not like he wanted her. Then again, he reasoned, heartbreak was inevitable either way. Eventually she would leave him for that normal life anyway, and he would still be broken. In fact, maybe more broken for not having known her as a lover. Or would it be worse to lose a lover? Rassilion, he had no idea. He'd never had a relationship in this body, or really in very many of his bodies at all, actually, and the whole thing left him puzzled.

Groaning in annoyance, the Doctor sat down on the bed and began removing his boots. He thought of Rose in the next room over, deliciously tipsy and offering herself to him. Until that exact moment he hadn't been sure if she held similar feelings for him. In fact, the decision to keep the two of them as mates had been mostly grounded by the idea that she probably didn't want some old man like him. Keeping that in mind was the only way he managed to continually convince himself that he was right to stay out of her bed. But tonight. Oh sweet mother of Gallifrey had it been obvious. She hadn't specifically said, 'Doctor I want you to shag me', but it had been enough to let him in on the secret. It had taken even bit of his self control to walk out of that room and keep walking into his own.

Ah, well, a good two or three hours of shut eye should give him some perspective. He could dwell and sulk on this after he had rested. The Doctor shed the rest of his clothing and laid down on the bed, his hands behind his head and the cool breeze from the window feeling wonderful on his bare chest. He thought of Rose again. He thought of her out on that dance floor, swaying around like she the only person in the room and then catching his eye and making him see that even if she felt like she was alone, she would always still remember him there. He had felt...special, when she hooked her finger and asked him to join her in dancing. It had been terrific to have her pressed that close for no other reason than they were dancing and enjoying themselves. It felt bloody brilliant to hold that beautiful creature in his arms without fear of losing her or needing to run or anything else.

As the Doctor remembered the way she had sighed in his arms and dance slowly with him, he couldn't help the gradual increase in blood in his lower region. Cursing softly, the Doctor scolded himself for allowing this to happen again. The girl had just offered herself to him and he had resisted because he was a gentleman, but then he goes and gets himself all aroused in the next room over. What a fine frackin gentleman he turned out to be.

But it was a night out, and Rose was probably nodding off in her drunken state by now, and he was all worked up anyway... The Doctor kept his hands behind his head, but let his mind wander. He imagined Rose on that dance floor again, swaying her hips and slowly unzipping her hoodie while he watched. He imagined Rose and him alone in a room, her dancing for him with that special and magnificent smile. His member twitched with that one. He thought of Rose dropping the hoodie to the side and putting her thumbs in the belt loops of her jeans, tugging them down to show him those gorgeous hip bones. He thought of his beautiful Rose giving him a personal strip tease and his body suddenly coursed with fire, the breeze from the window not cool enough to ease the burning feeling that his arousal was creating.

Slowly the Doctor moved his hands from behind his head and laid them next to his hips, splaying his palms flat against the mattress. His cock twitched and jerked on its own, standing upright. He quivered and allowed his imagination to continue picturing Rose undressing on the dance floor. He saw her tossing her top to the floor and immediately pulling her breasts out over the cups of her bra. He saw those pink nipples being teased by her own hand, grinning at him watching her. Having pushed himself about as far as he could handle, the Doctor lifted his right hand to his hip and ventured toward his pulsing cock. Grasping himself firmly, the Doctor was about to pump his length when his mind was startled back to reality with a shrill noise.

The phone in his room was ringing. Puzzled, the Doctor released himself and scooted over to the side of the bed to get a good look at the number ringing. Expecting the manager or maybe the night desk clerk, his eyes popped wide open when he saw it was the room next door. Rose's room.

"Hullo?" The Doctor answered with a bit of curiosity, having no idea what to expect really. He had said he was in the other room if she needed something, but Rose never needed anything. Initially, he wondered if she was okay and adrenaline coursed through his body as he waited for her to tell him what was wrong.

"Hi there, Doctor." Rose purred into the phone. She sounded fine. In fact...she sounded odd.


	2. Chapter 2

"Rose? What's wrong?" His voice was a question that begged her to answer. If he took a few seconds, which he had, it was easy to see the possibilities of where this might be going. The Doctor could predict any one of exactly 34 different plausible reasons for Rose to be calling and sounding the way that she did.

She might need some ice and be afraid to go get it by herself. She might've woken up and been confused and just wondering where they were. She might've heard a noise and called to discuss the possible culprits with him, as they sometimes did on the TARDIS, though mind you that was usually when they had not been drinking and were fully alert and clothed. In fact, all of the scenarios the Doctor thought up did not, in any way shape or form, involve the Doctor being stark naked on the other end of the telly with his member standing salute like a flag pole.

"'m lonely, Doctor." Rose's words were a slow drawl of delicious neediness. The Doctor relaxed his shoulders as he realized her life was not in danger, and she was not afraid of any noises or flag poles...or what have you.

"No need to be lonely, it's time for sleeping!" His response was as cheery and happy as he could muster in his current situation. He forced himself to shake the ideas of Rose giving him a private strip tease from his mind. Those would have to do for later. Right now he needed to get his little human back to sleep so that he could resume those thoughts and then get his own shut eye before they went back to their adventerous life.

"But...couldn't you keep me company? Just 'til I knock off?" She pleaded in the sweetest way that the Doctor found himself grinning, a little pleased that she wanted his company. "Could just talk..." Rose's words drifted off.

"Alright then. What shall we talk about?" The Doctor settled back against his pillows and gave his cock a stern eye. Why wasn't it relaxing? He felt filthy as sin to be having a conversation with Rose while he was so...bothered. Bothered by images of her, no less!

"What're you wearin'?" The Doctor nearly choked on his own breath at the voicing of those words. On cue, the blood rushed south and he felt his erection soar. Adrenaline coursed through his body and all she had done was saying three little words. It was exciting and fantastic and terribly wrong. The Doctor gripped the phone with one hand and rested the other on his hip, casually close to the throbbing feeling.

"Why? Do ya need to borrow my coat?" He was feeling playful. He was hesitant, of course he was, but for some reason having the wall between them and the phone relaying their voices made him feel silly and rather bold.

Rose giggled and her answer came out as a whisper. "Well, I am cold laying here naked an' all."

* * *

Rose could hear the Doctor's surprise every time she spoke. Goose pimples ran up and down her body as she delighted in the fear of saying these words. The alcohol had made her braver, but her brain was right there with her, acutely aware of his every response. She had been rejected earlier, but more booze had fueled her feelings. She was not going to be rejected twice in one beautiful night.

"Is that right?" The Doctor's words were quiet, a sense of awe even.

"Yes. I could use some warming up. Doesn't hav't be your coat though. I'd settle for a nice...hug." Pink nipples stood at attention then, reacting with her words and the cool air.

"Oh, naked hugs, hmm? Wouldn't be so bad, I s'pose." He was speaking low and lazy, his words spilling out and causing the fire in her belly to burn. She wondered if he was affected in the next room.

"You still haven't answered my question. What're ya wearin'?" She bit her lip and waited, squeezing her thighs together in the moment of truth. If he was looking for an easy place to reject her, this was it. All he had to do was tell her to go to bed now, that the flirting had gone on enough, that she needed her rest, yadda yadda yadda.

"That's because there's nothin' to tell. I took my clothes off before I got in bed, Rose." Releasing her lip, Rose's face broke into a huge smile and her thighs clenched tighter, imagining her big, lanky Doctor naked in the other room.

"You sleep naked, Doctor? I never knew." And she didn't, really. She tried to think of time when she had seen him sleep and couldn't come up with any. In fact, she wasn't sure that he did sleep.

"Don't usually sleep one way or the other, really. But tonight seemed like a good night to strip off m' clothes and plop down in bed." She could hearing him stretching while he spoke, and liquid pooled between her legs thinking of his body stretched out.

"Well then, both of us nude and in bed. Seems like quite the coincidence." She teased him because she knew he loved it. The danger of the situation played through her body and she had to cross her ankles to keep from squeezing her thighs any tighter.

"Might be! Could also be that I couldn't get you out of mind and had to shed the clothes lest my body burst of overheating." Sultry Doctor. She liked this.

"Do I make you hot, then Doctor?"

"Oh, Rose. Do you really have to ask?" Her thighs quivered at his words.

""m asking, aren't I?" Rose held her breath.

"Rose Tyler. You do, in fact, make me so hot that I sometimes worry I'll combust from the heat, but I'm a bit of rebel, aren't I? Can't resist hugging you even though every time I do, I'm not quite sure what's going to happen me. And a naked hug? Well that is _so_ hot." He paused to let his words sink in. "You make me very, very hot, Rose."

All of the breath she'd been holding rushed from her lungs in... joy? Excitement? Fear? Lust.

"You make me hot, too, Doctor. And I love when you hug me. So. Much." She popped her words out slowly for effect, and she could hear the Doctor suck in his breath quickly. Rose wondered what he was doing over there. Wondered if he was really naked. Wondered how far she was going to be able to take this. Sitting up on her elbows with the telly propped between her ear and shoulder, Rose tossed back another quick drink of the liquor and continued her teasing.

"Are you truly naked over there, Doctor?"

"Aye. Is that okay, then?" He sounded unsure but still deliciously gruff.

"Quite okay. But I wonder how you look. I've never seen ya naked, have I?" Rose's fingers danced along her thighs, trailing gentle lines back and forth and making her own skin crawl.

"Same goes for you, then. Never seen a naked Rose Tyler in all my life, though I must say it's on my list of adventures to be had." He spoke so low that Rose strained to hear those fantastic words. Rose considered inviting him over right then to have a look, but she bit her lip and held the idea in. This would do for now. She didn't want to push things too far, have him get worried and stop, have him reject her for being too bold. This terribly naughty talk would have to do for now.

"Are you aroused, Doctor?" She brushed her fingers against her slick folds, teasing her skin while the excitement coursed through her veins.

"Well, what do you think? My gorgeous companion calls me up and tells me she's naked. Would take a right saint to keep from getting hard with that image in his mind."

Rose giggled and continued. "I am too. Maybe we should do something about it?"

A slow groan on the other end of the line before his answer. "What did you have in mind, Miss Tyler?"

"I want you to touch yourself, Doctor. Think of me laying over here naked and touch yourself." Her words were brave and unfaltering. She heard his low growl and some shifting and the fact that he seemed to actually be doing what she asked made her heart rate speed up.

"And what should I do with it now that it's in my hand, Rose?"

"You should close your first and slide it up to the head. I want you to squeeze right there, just like I would." Rose used her fingers to spread her folds apart, flicking quickly at herself before retreating back.

"Ughhhh..." Was the Doctor growling?

"Tell me how it feels."

"Feels good. So good, Rose."

"Mmm...now slide down to the base and then back up again for me, Doctor."

The Doctor groaned and she could hear him shifting again. "God, Rose. What're you doing with those clever fingers of yours?"

"Oh no, Doctor. We're talking about you right now. You and your cock. I wish I could see it right now, tight in your hand." Immediately she wished she hadn't set quite that, wished she could take back the part about seeing him. Rose could hear the hesitation in his response, his voice taking a deep sigh before beginning. No, none of that. Rose decided to cut him off and keep this going just the way it was. "Go faster, Doctor. Pump up and down for me. Picture me doing it. Imagine it's my hand wrapped around you. Would you like that?"

The Doctor hissed. No words anymore, just slight grunts and pants and the occassional rustle from the fabric.

"If you'd like my hand, I bet you'd like my mouth too." Rose dipped her fingers into herself as she listened to him moaning.

"Yessss..." He was losing control and she could feel it all the way over here. The Doctor never lost control, and here was little ol' drunk Rose making him do it. She used her thumb to flick her clit as she spoke.

"I'd like to use my mouth, Doctor. Would love to wrap my lips around you and give just a gentle...suck. Hmm? Use my hands to squeeze your balls, perhaps?" His answering grunt made Rose thrust her fingers into herself deeper, starting a rhythm very quickly. In, out, speak. In, out, speak.

"I'd like to run my tongue up and down your length. Taste that taste that I'm positive is just so..._Doctor." _In, out, speak. "Kiss the tip of your cock. Positively snog it." In, out, speak. "And then Doctor, oh Doctor. Then, I'd grip your hips and look up at you." In, out, speak. "And I'd give you that look that just begged you to come." In, out, speak. "Come right in my throat. Let me drink you right up, Doctor." Rose's muscles tightened around her fingers as the Doctor made an unintelligible and rather loud noise.

"Rassilion, Rose!" And he was coming. She could tell by the way the phone shifted and rustled and his breathing became jagged. Rose kept pumping. In, out, in, out, in, out, flick her clit a few times.

"I can smell you through the walls, Rose. I can smell how turned on you are." Rose clenched her eyes shut and made some kind of sound that he accepted as encouragement. "And I can imagine what you're doing to yourself. I can just see your body writhing on the bed as you listen to me. You're very naughty, Rose." Again with the sound, and he continues. "Much naughtier than I ever realized, really. What am I going to do with you and your naughty, naughty mouth?"

Rose forced words out now, on the edge of her pleasure. "Punish me?"

He chuckled darkly. "Quite right. I want you to come now, Rose. Come for me like the naughty girl you are." And she was spiraling out of control, her walls clenching her fingers in place, her thumb pressing down on her clit with pressure as her body seized up off the bed and back down.

There were no voices for several minutes as they each lay in their beds and listened to the other breathing. Rose felt herself hovering near sleep, the long day and the alcohol and the mindblowing orgasm all suddenly catching up with her. The Doctor delighted in the adrenaline that was begging to ebb and flow away, being replaced with clear and definite knowledge that he had taken that step with Rose and there was no going back.

"You should sleep now, Rose."

"Mmm..."

"Goodnight, beautiful girl."

"'night, Doctor."

* * *

**A/N: I do plan to write many, many more chapters. Show me you're reading by leaving a quick review and/or following the story. xo-Emmy **


	3. Chapter 3

Rose grimaced as she sat up in bed. Her whole body ached. Turning to swing her legs out of bed there was a loud clatter to the floor.

_Oh. The alcohol. _Rose bent down and scooped up the fallen cup and bottle, righting them on the bedside table. It was an abrupt reminder about what had happened. Biting her lip, Rose lamented that she was not given those blissful five or so minutes of not remembering the night before. Reality hit her like a brick in the shins. She and the Doctor had phone sex last night. There was no denying it. That definitely, absolutely happened. And if she needed proof, the stickiness between her legs was a great reminder.

And a good reminder of all the drinking that she did was the pounding headache. Sheesh. She almost never got hangovers back home, but clearly Yezzale liquor was not as kind to her.

While showering, Rose let her mind thing about the Doctor. How would he act today? She had been so brave last night, but today she felt like a child anticipating a scolding. But dammit, she was a grown woman and she was not about to let him make her feel like she had done something wrong. If she was at fault, then he most certainly was too. Not innocent at all, him.

* * *

The Doctor had been up for 5 hours and seventeen minutes when he finally heard Rose wake up. Adrenaline began coursing through his veins almost instantly. All that time to figure things out, and all he'd really accomplished was to get hard all over again remembering what they had done...what she had sounded like...what she wanted to do to him..

He'd spent most of the night fighting between becoming aroused again and trying to decide how to move forward. They had crossed a very specific line that he himself had set for them. To ease his guilt, he tried to tell himself that it was her. She had done the seducing and he had just gone along with it, but the truth was evident. He had moved things along, too. He had wanted her. Gods, he had wanted her so much. Always did, and once she was offering, well, no sane man could have walked away from Rose Tyler all aroused on the other end of a phone. She was a goddess.

He waited approximately 45 minutes before he decided it was time to get up and go see her. Start their day. Move forward. He figured that he had given her ample time to get herself sorted out, and she was probably just as anxious as him about the whole thing.

Striding forward confidently, the Doctor reached their adjoining door and swung it open, a huge smile on his face.

"Well good morning!" He burst through door and immediately froze. Rose was bent over on the bed, wrapped in a towel, applying lotion to her legs.

"Doctor!" Rose gasped and sat up, hugging her towel to her chest. "Oi, knock much?"

"Right. Sorry. It's a new day though, plenty to do, let's get a move on, shall we?" The Doctor's eyes roamed around the room while he spoke, desperate to keep his hungry eyes off of her beautiful flesh. No need to make her feel like he was that affected, though. No need to make her feel like he didn't want to be around her, he figured. He decided to busy himself at the dresser while he kept her back to her.

"Are you going to stand there while I finish dressing?" Rose sounded confused. It was not an emotion that he enjoyed on her. That wouldn't do.

Turning slightly and meeting her eyes, "Why yes. I am. Now hurry up."

The Doctor picked up and began examining a tabletop clock, winding levers and flicking things and poking it. He made soft noises as he did so, clearly engrossed in the little clock. Rose hurried over to her clothes, discarded from the night before, and dressed in a hurry. Keeping her eyes on him the entire time, Rose shimmied her knickers and denim up her legs.

"Right. Ready. Let's get back to the TARDIS?" Rose let out a big huff of air, not realizing she had been holding her breath while getting dressed. The Doctor spun around and gave her a brilliant smile. That big goofy face of his just grinning. Rose had to square her shoulders and take a deep breath as she went out the door he held open for her.

The Doctor was very worried. Rose was acting like she was uncomfortable with him. Had he been too much last night? Oi, he really shouldn't have called her a naughty girl. Shouldn't have wanked off with her listening like that. He was disgusting. It was no wonder she was so on edge after all that.

Back on the TARDIS, Rose skipped off to her room and mumbled something about changing into clean clothes. The Doctor's mood was quickly darkening. They hadn't held hands on the way back to the ship like they usually did, both of them clearly too uncertain to touch. She hadn't said anything, and he was feeling too moody to force conversation. This body wasn't much for small talk.

The Doctor fumbled around the console, trying to decide what to do. Another adventure, maybe? Or should he take her home after what happened? He sent them into the vortex while he wallowed in indecision. Surely she didn't want to go back home? He had admitted his feelings. Told her how much he loved hugging her...though he'd said it in a much naughtier way, really. Maybe she was embarrassed about her own behavior. Well, that would be a different story then. Oh, he hoped it was that. Suddenly positive that he just _had_ to know what she was thinking, the Doctor found himself in front of her closed door with his large hand poised over the knob. Swallowing, he lifted his hand up and knocked instead.

"Ya?" Rose's voice echoed from inside the room and the Doctor took the noise to be enough of an invitation to enter.

""ello. Rose, I was thinkin..." He trailed off and looked around the room, admiring the photos and little knick knacks she had all over the room. "Well. We should probably talk...about...things." He finished with much less bravo than he had begun with. Rose swallowed and sat down on the edge of her bed, waiting.

"Yeah, probably. Doctor, I'm sorry for being so inappropriate last night. Must've been all the alcohol." Her cheeks blushed bright red her eyes stared him down. She looked just beautiful there.

"There's no need for apologies, Rose." He returned her stare with intensity. All he had to do was figure out if she wanted to ignore it or not. Neither of them said anything, their eye contact never breaking. Minutes passed before Rose finally cleared her throat, the spell broken.

"Well, okay then. So we'll get on with our adventures then? 'm sure there's somebody out there needs savin'." Rose fluttered her hands about nervously, anxious for him to lean forward and kiss her. Make her feel like it was going to be okay. Take away all of this uncertainty with his lips. He didn't, though. He just nodded his head and stood up, strolled right out of her room. Rose threw her face into her hands. That hadn't solved anything! All they had done was stare at each other and not apologize. Nothing was resolved.

Still, the best thing to do was just go out there and see what the day held. One step at a time, right? They were still best mates, she was pretty sure of that. Nothing was going to change that. No amount of phone sex was going to make them not be mates. Just awkward mates, probably.

* * *

"Oh my god, Doctor, this is beautiful!" They were standing on a rocky hill looking out at a beautiful blue pool of water with a waterfall cascading down a cliff. Rose was speechless. It was probably the most beautiful place he had ever taken her.

"Quite right! Didn't realize I'd landed us so close to this place! Meant to be a little more in the city." The Doctor thrust his hands in his pocket and looked around. "Ah, this planet has fantastic smelling trees! Ah, come smell this one! Wonderful!" He was sticking his face right into the leaves of an orange colored tree. He looked around for Rose, expecting to find her nearby.

She wasn't there, though. That fantastic human had wandered off again! The Doctor furrowed his brow as he walked back to where they were by the water. Rose was straight ahead of him, stripping her clothes off and then walking into the water. The Doctor swallowed thickly and watched, not sure what else to do. Rose Tyler was naked with her beautiful back to him and about to get in the water. A naked Rose Tyler. Like the Rose Tyler from last night...

Swallowing thickly, the Doctor made some quick decisions. They were likely much too unstable for him to go diving in too without making her uncomfortable, so the only logical thing to do was to entertain himself on the land until she was ready to go explore. He was not pleased with this, but it was the right thing to do. He didn't need her thinking he was any more disgusting than she already did. The Doctor mentally scolded himself again for last night. What the bloody hell was he thinking? She clearly regretted it. She'd apologized and then tried to just go back to normal. He owed her normal. He could do this.

Settling down under the wonderful smelling orange tree, the Doctor propped his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.

In the water, Rose was disappointed to see him fully clothed and under a tree. Seducing him was going to take a lot more work, she suddenly realized. After he had told her there was no need to apologize, Rose became certain that she could do this. She was almost positive that he wanted her, still wanted her after the way he had spoken to her last night. Rose grinned and leaned back in the water, lazily doing a backstroke while thinking about his words. The way he had grunted and hissed like some kind of animal while she talked about going down on him. The water felt ice cold against Rose's now very flushed skin. Suddenly missing him like she couldn't stand any more, Rose grew brave and hollered to the Doctor.

"The water is lovely, Doctor! You should jump in!" She gave him a brilliant smile while she watched his face. His eyes popped up suddenly and he looked like he'd been stricken. She had surprised him with her boldness!

"Nah, I don't swim."The Doctor called back to her and Rose was so disappointed that she couldn't help her face falling. Rose stuck her lower lip out and pouted.

"The world will not end if the Doctor swims. Come on! 'm sure you know how!"

She could tell he was trying to resist. It was like she was witnessing a battle right in front of her, though he didn't move. He stayed planted where he was and closed his eyes again. Rose Tyler was not about to give up, though.

Rose stood and walked to the edge of the water, the sun feeling warm on her bare skin. Rose bit her lip as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. She could tell he was watching her. She could see that his eyes were open, just barely, even if his whole body remained exactly in position. Ha, like he was fooling anyone. Rose turned her back to him and bent over, scooping up her clothing. She was giving him quite the view, but still he stayed where he was. Rose took her time slipping her clothes on, allowing herself to think that he was watching her every move. It gave her a chill to think her Doctor was letting his eyes roam over her naked backside.

Finally dressed, Rose strode over to him. "Shall we go?" He pretended to act surprised to see her. She could tell it was an act, and bit her lip to hold in the laughter. The Doctor stood, grabbed her hand roughly, and they began walking.

* * *

Back on the TARDIS, Rose was exhausted. She had just outrun a very angry pack of wild animals, been praised as a fertility goddess, and been in hand-to-hand combat against a woman with a huge metal bar through her nose. Adventures as usual.

"I'm knackered! How 'bout you?" Rose leaned against the console and crossed her arms.

"Nah, not really. Could run a triathlon! But you go get some sleep, plenty of time for that later." He gave her a huge grin, and Rose felt her body tugging her towards rest. Deciding to listen to it for once, Rose nodded and headed off to her room. She needed to rest. After the day they had, all of the sexual tension had been forgotten. They were too busy saving lives and running for their own to worry about what the other thought. Alone in her room, collapsed on her bed, Rose closed her eyes and let her mind wander. She was remembering that waterfall and the warm sun that had started her day out so nice when she heard a buzzing, Reaching around in her back pocket, Rose pulled out her mobile.

The TARDIS was texting her? What?

*asleep yet?* Rose grinned. She had no idea he could text her. And more importantly, she had no idea he would _want_ to text her.

*not yet, why?* She drummed her fingers against her stomach while she waited for a reply.

*need help falling asleep?* Biting her lip, Rose typed out a response, anxious to see where this was going.

*what did you have in mind, Doctor?*

He replied almost instantly.

*In my mind? Well, my mind is full of images of you bent over naked on that shore today, you minx. What's in your mind?*

So he _had_ been watching! Rose squeezed her thighs together.

*what did you think of that little show?*

*Fantastic show, Rose. Would like an encore.*

Her arousal was evident now.

*it's not a free show! What do I get in return?*****

*I could come in there and pay my dues.*

Her eyes bulged at that. Come in here? Was he really suggesting that? Who was seducing who around here?

*I dare you.* Hitting send, Rose stripped her t-shirt and denim off and hopped under the blankets.

*are you sure?*

*what are you, chicken?*

Suddenly Rose's bedroom door flung open. He looked brilliant standing there in her doorway. Biting her lip, Rose skimmed her eyes over his body and delighted in the very noticeable bulge she saw.

"I am no chicken, Rose." His eyes were dark and hungry, unlike she had ever seen him. Rose didn't trust herself to talk, so instead she just raised her eyebrows and watched him.

Walking towards her, the Doctor flung his leather jacket across the room and then quickly discarded his jumper as well. Bare chested, Rose shamelessly admired his muscled chest.

"How does it go? I'll show you mine if you show me yours?" He quipped with his hands on his belt buckle. He looked brave and sexy standing there, but Rose suspected that he was just as nervous as she was.

"That is a saying, yeah." Rose wiggled her eyebrows at him and smirked.

* * *

Oh, he loved the way she was looking at him. So trusting, so innocent, all curled up in her blankets. He wasn't a fool—he could see her jeans and top on the floor, he knew she was in her bra and knickers under that blanket. The knowledge that she was so bare under that blanket made his blood run hot and his head throb a little with suspense.

He wasn't going to come in here. He was just going to send her a few texts to sate that very greedy part of him that wanted her to know he was still thinking about their phone call. But one thing lead to the other thing and then the final thing and here he was, half naked in front of her.

"Well I did tell you that seeing a naked Rose Tyler was on my bucket list, aye?" The Doctor unclasped his belt, taking his time about it. He noticed her eyes on his bulge. He noticed her watching that very specific place, and it just made him throb more. Rassilion, he wanted her to see.

"Wasn't enough today at the water?"

"Oh no. I was so far away. Hardly saw enough to count." He undid the top button and paused, waiting for her to bring her eyes to his. It didn't take her but a second to realize he wanted her to look at him. Holding eye contact, he whispered what he had been dying to tell her all day. "I don't regret last night, Rose."

Rose swallowed a few times before responding. "Me neither. I want...more."

Grinning, he kicked his boots off and went back to his zipper. The Doctor stepped closer to the bed, standing near her head and looked down at her. His whole body trembled as she leaned forward and pulled the zipper down. Using one hand to hold her blanket to her chest, Rose reached the other hand to his hip and began tugging. He joined her with his other side, and together they slid his jeans and pants to the floor.

His erection broke free and was at eye level with Rose. The heat radiating off of his body was intense, and Rose looked up at him, waiting for him to make another move. Wasting no time, the Doctor put his hand around himself and let out a hiss of air.

"This is for you, Rose. 'Cause I can't stop thinking about you." He slowly stroked himself while Rose settled back into the pillows.

"Guess it's my turn," Rose looked shy, so much less brave without the alcohol from last night, but she was dying to show him. Touch him. Taste him.

Rose threw her covers to the side and her skin was instantly chilled from the loss of warmth, her nipples standing erect through her sheer bra. He could hardly believe she was showing him, but he loved it. He allowed himself one generous look over her body before finding her eyes again. His hand continued to stroke himself as he stood there next to the bed.

Feeling bold while watching his hand stroke his cock, Rose pulled her breasts out over the top of her bra, taking a moment to flick her own nipples a little, all the while her eyes trained on his cock. He took a deep breath and spoke. "Now your knickers. Off." His voice was dark, his pupils dilating as he drank in her body.

Rose pushed away the lace fabric and kept her thighs together, letting him ravish her with his eyes. She expected him to take her then, to fuck her madly, but he just stood there pumping his own cock and staring.

"Open up, Rose." He jutted his chin towards her thighs, and Rose felt wetness pooling at his words. He was so sexy right then. It was like nothing she had ever been able to fantasize up on her own, and she mentally filed away the look on his face for later. Oh, those eyes. The blue eyes turned into bedroom eyes. She could come just staring at his face. Of course, what he was doing with those clever hands weren't hurting...

Rose spread her legs slowly, raising her knees up and letting one hand trail down her stomach while the other kept her fingers pinched around one nipple. When she spoke, her voice was broken and savage sounding, her body wracked with arousal. "What should I do now?"

"Make yourself come, Rose. Show me." And then he was kneeling on the bed between her legs, still not touching her but very, very close. He kept one hand around his cock and stroked himself leisurely while Rose began teasing her clit. She couldn't focus her eyes. She wanted to look at those eyes and that cock and his muscular stomach and the way his hip bones were shaped. Her eyes were hungry while she touched herself, running up and down his body and always coming back to that cock.

"Mmm...I do this so much, Doctor. Don't you ever hear...or smell?"

"Oh yes. Always. I do this quite often, too." He smiled just a tad, pumping his fist faster now as Rose dips her fingers into herself.

"I always think of you. Can't believe you're here now," Rose risked the words while swirling her thumb around her clit and pushing her two fingers in and out of herself. Her hips bucked up and her knees bumped with the Doctor's thigh. Rose couldn't help but marvel at how strange it is, what they're doing, considering they have never even shared a proper kiss. Or any kiss.

"Fuck, Rose. I'm going to come watching you do that." His eyes snapped shut as he stands up, slowly backing away from her and the bed. "Come. Now." He let go of himself while speaking, and Rose's body seized up. Fireworks and waterfalls and the Doctor and _oh my god_ and she was coming, her eyes clenched shut and her fingers buried in herself.

Finally sated, Rose opened her eyes and seeks him. She wants to know he is close, too. She wants to share this with him, her blissful feeling. Her subconscious slowly nags at her, and she imagines pulling him to the bed and cuddling.

He's not there, though. The loss of his presence is a rock to the stomach as Rose rolled over and pulled the covers up to her neck, vividly aware that he shared something so personal and private with her and then fled. As she nods off to sleep, Rose lets her mind wonder where he is, and if they'll ever share themselves the proper way.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you to the wonderful 9 people who have reviewed, and to the many who have followed. Let me know you're reading! Also, I started a very NSFW 18+ mature audience only kind of blog on tumblr to accompany this fic, I'll send the link to those who request it. More to come soon! **


	4. Chapter 4

He left while Rose was coming. It was poetic, in a sick way, and he couldn't help that need to run. To always run. To keep running, even when a beautiful woman was giving him an amazing gift, he had to run. No where specific, just away. The Doctor who runs away. He hoped she would understand. She always understood on some level, it seemed. Run had been his first word to her. He had kept them running all that time, every day, right up until Yezzale.

The Doctor was sure, now that he thought it through, that Yezzale had been the problem. It was the first time they had slowed down and let their feet just walk instead of run. And as soon as they stopped running, well, that's when all this trouble had begun. He sat on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. He knew she wouldn't come looking for him. Knew he had spurred her too badly for her to want to find him. She was probably cursing him in every language that he'd taught her curse words in. It was better that she didn't find him right now. He was cursing himself, too. It had been his fault. He's the one that sent the text message. He's the one that mentioned her being naked. He's the one that went in that room and crossed the line from delicious flirting into actual real sexy stuff. _I'm disgusting. _The Doctor could have wept.

Clenching his eyes shut tight, he tried to clear his head. Needed a clear head. Needed Rose to get out of his head so he could think properly. Every time he tried to think about anything these days, there was his companion, barging into his mind and memories and distracting him. It was so pleasant at first. He loved thinking about her, and indulged in that wonderful giddy feeling he felt in his stomach. He let himself believe she had the same feeling in her stomach, and he told himself it was unique. That they shared something personal and special and unlike anything anyone else in the entire universe had ever experienced. But as the Doctor sat on his knees in front of that gorgeous, naked girl, watched her sticking her fingers inside herself while she stared at his naked body, it occurred to him that the feeling wasn't unique. It wasn't something that the two of them had invented. It was the oldest feeling in the world. It was lust.

His erection finally gone, the Doctor walked to his closet and dressed in fresh clothes, too ashamed to go retrieve his items from Rose's bedroom. She would surely be asleep now, but he dug deep and told himself that ignoring the entire incident was the only way that they could remain around one another. They couldn't keep crossing that line from mates to lust and back again without some serious repercussions. Dressed, the Doctor set about fixing his mind. There were drastic moves he could make, sure. He could override his memory bank and insert unkind things whenever he remembered Rose. He could classically condition himself to be repulsed any time he saw he bare flesh. He could take her home and go back to traveling solo. He didn't really want to do any of that, though. What he really wanted was to keep Rose Tyler close by and keep remembering her as the incredible and fantastic human being that she was without feeling the need to jump her bones so often. The Doctor decided on an old remedy for an old problem. Meditation. Setting the TARDIS into drift mode, the Doctor locked himself in his study and began a very long, 22 hours to be exact, meditation session. He would get these feelings under control so help him.

* * *

Rose paced the TARDIS console room. Her face was flushed, her hands sweaty, and her eyes wild. The Doctor seemed to be missing, but how could that be? They were floating in space! Rose had paced back and forth and then set out to find him. She had been to his bedroom, the kitchen, the pool, the library, all the bathrooms she could find (and she did that very carefully, mind you, with one hand over her eyes and her fingers spread just enough to see, as if the two of them had any reason for modesty), but she couldn't find the Doctor.

Where could he be? Scenarios flashed through her mind. She had looked every place that the TARDIS would allow her to look before she had returned to the console room in a panic. Maybe he was angry with her and had gone off on his own adventure alone, only to be captured or kidnapped or somethin'. Maybe he had been killed and the TARDIS was doing what she did, floating about away from the danger. Maybe he was somewhere aboard but hurt, unable to yell loud enough for her to hear. Rose choked on unshod tears and slammed her fist into the console.

"Where is he? Why won't you help me?" Rose pressed her face down on the controls, tears falling from her eyes and her breath ragged. The TARDIS seemed to respond kindly, caressing Rose's mind in a way she had never even know could happen. She felt calmer, though still scared, as the TARDIS seemed to lull her to sleep.

* * *

The meditation had done him worlds of good. The Doctor felt alive, rejuvenated, brave, clever, kind. He was confident that he could move forward with Rose as his mate without losing control again. He was sure there was nothing else could happen to taint that as he strode into the console room. The breath from his lungs came out in a gasp as he took in the sight. Rose Tyler was on the floor, her cheek pressed into the grating, her face covered in dried tears.

"Rose!" He crouched beside her, confused. "Rose, wake up!"

The little human lifted her head and met his eyes, and his body quaked.

"Doctor? Oh Doctor!" And her arms were around his neck, her face pressed into his shoulder as she sobbed. "I couldn't find you. I was so worried." Her words were choked and desperate, and the Doctor held her and tried to puzzle out what was wrong. He had been on board in meditation. Nothing had gone wrong. There hadn't truly been a reason to be worried like this.

"Rose, I'm fine. I was meditating, tha's all." He stroked her yellow hair with one hand and pressed his cheek against her head. "Why were you so worried? There was nothing to be afraid of."

Rose sniffed and looked up at him. Oh, her eyes. Always with those brown eyes. Wasn't there an Earth song about brown eyed girls? How could she be so full of worry and trust and fear and caring for the man who did what he did last night? She vexed him in a way that he had no tools to understand.

"I didn't know if you were okay. After last night... Oh, Doctor." And suddenly she was pressing her lips to his cheek, and his skin felt on fire all over again. She was kissing him on the cheek after what he did. She was showing him kindness that he didn't deserve.

"Rose, look, I'm fine. It's okay." His lips moved and the words came out, but Rose was busy. She was kissing his cheek and his neck and his throat and nuzzling her face against him. This was new. Why was she doing this? No one's life had been in danger, no one had hurt anyone. Wasn't she angry with him?

"Doctor, please. Please don't leave me again. Please don't ever do that again." Rose whimpered sadly, mashing her soft lips against the rough and stubbly covered skin of his neck.

"Rose, I...I left because I couldn't be there. Couldn't do that with you. It's not...it's not right." He said the words into her hair because he couldn't stand to say them to her face. Rose didn't move as he expected her to, though. She stayed put, her body pressed against his and her face buried in his neck.

"Doctor, you don't understand. It was right...it was the most right thing we've ever done."

There were no more words. Silence was so much easier where they were concerned. He just stood there and let her hug him, let her roam her fingers around his back and waist while she calmed herself down. The Doctor imagined taking her home and what it would feel like. He imagined putting her hand in Jackie's and saying goodbye. Just imagining it made him feel like he'd been kicked in the stomach, though. He tried to imagine telling her that he needed his space. That they could be mates and all, but she was going to need to start respecting personal space. Just the thought made him miss her touch, even though she was pressed up against him as he thought.

"I know you don't believe me, Doctor. It's okay. I believe it. And someday, you will too." She pulled back from him finally and looked up at his face. His wrinkly old daft face. His face that he wished he could change for her. His face that had seen such horrible things that it didn't deserve to see such a beautiful one looking back at him. He knew she was wrong. Everything about what they were doing was wrong, and he needed her to see that.

"Rose, it's not simple. We can't..." but she was cutting him off with her fingers. Rose pressed three fingers to his lips and shook her head. She clearly did not want to hear what he was going to say and that should infuriate him, but instead all he could focus on was the way her fingers felt against his lips.

"It's as simple as we want it to be, Doctor." Rose walked away. Down the hall, away from him. He was speechless.

* * *

Weeks passed easily. They went back to their adventuring. They saved worlds. They kept running, Rose always making sure that her hand was in his as they did.

In the first week, the Doctor tried to keep his distance. He continued to tell himself that it was wrong to lead Rose on when he knew there couldn't be anything between them, but she was persistent. Oh, he had to give her that. Rose Tyler did not just forget about things, and it became absolutely evident when she announced to a room full of uni blokes at a pub in London that she wasn't available, couldn't be available, not after what she had seen in the Doctor's pants. He had been so taken back by her flirty remarks that he'd chuckled along with the men slapping him on the back and buying him chips and ales.

In the second week, the Doctor let Rose get closer because she really was in charge of herself and seemed to do whatever she pleased, whether the Doctor tried to dissuade her or not. They never spoke of the things that had done those two nights, but Rose made sure the Doctor knew they were on her mind. While they were walking in a market in Rome, Rose suggested they get a hotel for the evening, but forget the separate rooms this time. He had immediately told her he thought he heard some danger from down the alley, grabbed her hand, and off they ran. Away. Always running away.

In the third week, the Doctor realized he was not in control at all. He was piloting the TARDIS and suggesting new places to go and ultimately saving the day, but he knew he was only doing it for Rose. He only did all of those things to see Rose light up, smile at him, admit that he was occasionally impressive. It was a slow realization. Three weeks and countless adventures and constant hand holding, but the Doctor was beginning to realize that every breath he took and every beat of his hearts, he was thinking about Rose. And that feeling...it couldn't just be lust. It couldn't be, because he hadn't allowed himself one inappropriate thought since he'd walked out her bedroom that night (which was quite a miracle, considering how much she had shown him), and if he still had that giddy and happy and longing feeling inside him without all the real adult sexy stuff, well. That feeling just couldn't be lust.

In the fourth week, the Doctor decided that since he was positively sure that the feeling wasn't just lust, and there was no way his feelings were being influenced by pheromones or alcohol or anything else, well then it might be okay to go back to indulging in those certain thoughts again. Now that he was sure.

"Off to bed, then?" His face was gentle as he led her to her bedroom. Rose nodded.

"Thank you for a wonderful day, Doctor." She opened her door.

"Anytime, Rose." And then she surprised him. Absolutely took him out of nowhere, after all it had been four weeks, when she leaned up and gently pressed her lips against his. It was their first kiss. He let her lips press against his for several seconds before slowly pulling back. He didn't want to start this, not right then, not yet. But oh, he loved that kiss. He loved the way she had to stand on her tip toes to reach up to him. He loved the way her hair had fallen away from her face as she craned her head back. He loved those big lips touching his, burning him from the outside in.

"That was nice." And he was being truthful. He let his big hand stroke the side of her face gently and looked at those eyes.

"Yeah, 't was." Rose gave him a brilliant smile and turned, went into her room, and slowly shut the door.

The Doctor couldn't stop grinning as he walked back to his bedroom. Oh, he didn't sleep. Wasn't tired in the least, but he couldn't go fumble around with gadgets right now. He had only just decided it was okay to indulge in those thoughts and then bam! She kissed him, and now there was no bloody sleep going to happen now.

The Doctor took a deep breath and began undressing. As he kicked away the last bits of his clothes, he stood in front of the full length mirror. He gave himself a very critical eye as he examined himself. Daft, terribly daft old face. The ears. The creases in his forehead. The bald head. But his shoulders were wide, better to support her with. And his chest was muscular and broad, and the skin was stretched taught. His legs were long, longer than normal, made him feel right trapped sometimes when trying to sit in chairs, but they were strong. A smattering of hair here and there. And his lips. The Doctor stared at his lips in the mirror and remembered Rose kissing him just a few minutes before. He wished he had been brave and kissed her back, but she didn't seem to mind. He ran his tongue over his lips, pleased to find a faint taste. Rose Tyler's kisses tasted like apple-grass He'd have to show her apple-grass some day. Kiss her in a field of it, even.

Thinking of kissing her again was all it took. His body responded, and the Doctor allowed himself to watch in the mirror with his critical glare. His cock stiffened and elongated, waking up from its slumber against his leg. The Doctor thought about Rose holding his hand earlier, and the way she had felt when he had to pull her out of the way of that cart, how she had ended up pressed against his body for a moment. There we go. His manhood stretched out and the Doctor took it in his hand and watched himself in the mirror. Did Rose really want this? Was he worthy of her?

After weeks without a thought of her, the Doctor could take no more. He needed her. Pushing away his guilt, the Doctor let the images tumble in. He remembered her lying spread out for him. He remembered her little fingers touching herself, and the way her mouth opened and made the shape of an O. The Doctor took his cock in his hand and began stroking himself ever so slowly. He watched in the mirror, fascinated. He remembered her beautiful breasts all pushed up over her bra, her nipples standing up while she played with them. He remembered the way she had pulled his zipper down, been so close to touching him but somehow hadn't. He kept pumping. He wished he were braver. He wanted to go to her, take her, fuck her on that pink bedspread and make her moan for him. He wanted to pound into her until she was the only thing he could feel. He wanted her to climax. To come. To find her pleasure wrapped around his cock.

He was pumping furiously now. His knees felt weak as he thrust into his hand, his hips running the show. His toes curled and he kept thrusting. He needed her so much. He imagined that his hand was her hand. He imagined little pink fingernails on her sweet and clever hands pumping him. He thought about those beautiful breasts, bigger than he expected somehow, sandwiching his cock between them. He imagined her standing up on her knees and him bending his knees slightly to make it work, and then thrusting into her tits again and again, hitting her in the throat with his cock.

When the Doctor came, he grunted savagely and fell to his knees. His hand still rubbing, he spilled his semen on the floor. The Doctor fell backwards against the foot of his bed, his breathing ragged.

"Look at me. I'm a bleedin' mess." He allowed himself several minutes of pity. He is the one that pushed her away, he is the one that walked out on her. She gave him every chance, and yet here he was on his own beating the ever loving daylights out of his cock while he watched himself in the mirror. Sick, sick old man.

He cleaned himself and the floor up before dressing in a pair of sweats. Rubbing his face and chest with a clean towel, he realized how much he needed that. Disgusting as he might be, he needed to release that. His body felt calmer, more in sync with the universe. Suddenly filled with joy, he wanted nothing more than to go see Rose. He knew she was still sleeping, but he had to see her.

The Doctor crept down the hallway, not sure who he was afraid of catching him. He was nervous. He hoped she was maybe a little bit awake. Maybe just enough that he could return that kiss. Give her some of what she had given him. He opened her door carefully and peaked inside. Rose was a ball of blankets in her bed, a leg sticking out over the edge, a hand above her head, her mouth open just the tiniest bit. She looked fragile in her sleep, and the sight shocked him. The Doctor had never watched Rose sleep before, though he had been curious a time or two and considered it, but the actual sight of the mighty Rose Tyler in dreamland sent a soaring bit of happiness to that...feeling.

He walked across the room and stood next to her bed. The same place he had stood the night that she pulled his zipper down for him. The place he had stood when she pushed her lacy fabric away and shown him absolutely everything. He took several deep breaths, had to keep those sexy thoughts away right now. Had to just see her, admire her.

Holding his breath, the Doctor sat down next to Rose. He carefully leaned back until his head hit her pillow, and then shifted to his side with as little movement as possible. Laying on his side in nothing but his sweats, the Doctor watched Rose sleep. He counted her breaths. He counted her eyelashes. He memorized the shape of her lips. He bit his own lip to keep from kissing her in his sleep. Oh, he wanted to kiss her. He wanted so much to wake her with his mouth, but he resisted, knowing it wasn't the right time.

He waited for three hours. Then he waited for another 39 minutes just to see if he could stand it. He couldn't. As the three hours and fortieth minute came to a close, the Doctor reached out and smoothed Rose's hair from her face. He stroked her cheek lightly and then pulled his hand back.

Rose stirred in her sleep. She heaved a heavy sigh and rolled to her side, facing the Doctor. Rolling over had caused the big pink blanket to shift, and Rose kicked at it until it was off her. The Doctor grinned as he saw that she was sleeping in an old white t-shirt. He had no idea where it came from, but it was hitched up around her waist and the Doctor couldn't stand it. He reached out and let his hand rest on her hip right above her knickers.

"Doctor?" Rose's eyes shot open.

"'ello." He froze, but didn't move his hand. Rose smiled at him sleepily. "I just came in to give you something." He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, sighing a little as he did. Rose responded, pushing back and opening her mouth, urging his tongue into her mouth. Their tongues swirled around as their lips pushed on each other, the kiss more urgent and needy than the one they shared in the hallway.

The Doctor pulled back suddenly, feeling himself close to losing control.

"Don't go." Rose looked panicked as he sat up on his elbow.

"'m not." And they were kissing again, him rolling into her. His arms snaked around her back and he held her to his body, her heaving chest pressed hard against his bare chest. That feeling was creeping into his mind again, and the Doctor couldn't stop. Had to taste her. His mouth found her neck, her ear. He sucked on her ear lobe and growled when he realized just how much she liked that. Her legs came up and hooked around the backs of his knees, and the Doctor found himself on top of her, his groin pressing into her. And he was hard again. Oh gods was he hard. Having not bothered with pants, the Doctor's cock pressed into Rose through the fabric of the sweats. Rose nipped at his lips as she ground her hips up and into him, her thin cotton knickers growing damp.

He knew he should stop, walk away, kiss her goodnight and continue this another time. Knew that the worst possible thing to do was rush into intercourse, but she was hot between her legs, he could feel the heat pouring into him. And she was making these little moaning noises that seemed to send pleasure right to his cock. And oh, Rose Tyler was holding him to her with her slender legs. The guilt was thick, but he tried to push it away. Tried not think about his broken moral compass or the Time Lord laws forbidding this sort of thing. He kissed her harder, desperate, trying not think about his dead people, dead by his hands, and their disapproval of him. The Doctor fought a war inside his head while Rose pulled on him, clawed at him, kissed him.

* * *

Rose was absolutely ecstatic to find the Doctor in her bed, and even more thrilled to find his cotton covered cock pressing into her. She moved her hips with him, creating a rhythm of rubbing. She kissed him, sucked his lips, bit his lips, licked his neck. She couldn't get enough of him and that taste. Oh, she had been dreaming about this. She had been praying for this.

His hands were knotted in her hair and hers were wrapped around his neck as she felt herself growing more and more needy. She needed him inside her. She had seen what he had behind those sweats, and she wanted it. Bucking her hips upwards, Rose rolled them over. He grunted in surprised, and Rose sat up on him, his erection standing up in his pants in front of her. Looking down at him, at those brilliant blue eyes, Rose saw hesitation. She was the one in control. She was the one literally sitting on him. And it frightened him. And a frightened Doctor was terrifying to Rose.

Rose slowly pulled one of the Doctor's hands up to her breast, molding his fingers around her through the t-shirt. Her knickers were soaked through, but she knew if they did this, if they got naked and fucked the way she desperately wanted to, it might be the last time. Summoning all of the control she could manage, Rose began rocking her hips, rubbing her clothed clit against the Doctor.

"'s just like high school. Good ol' fashioned dry humping." She grinned down at him and pulled his other hand to her waist. He immediately slipped his hand under the shirt so that he could touch her skin. His large hand felt like fire on her hip, but she couldn't focus.

"Nothin' ol' fashioned about you, Rose Tyler." His hand pressed into her hip, grinding her down, She took both of her hands and lowered his sweat pants enough that his erection sprung free. She took him in her hands and rubbed up and down while pressing him against her knickers. The friction from the fabric wasn't perfect, but she was getting close, and oh god, she loved the velvety feel of him in her hands. He squeezed hard on her breast, getting her attention. They locked eyes and sped the movement up. She rocked forward and he rocked up, and together the friction drove them wild. Rose kept her hands moving up and down on his cock, while he kept his fingers kneading her breast and pinching her nipple.

"'m gonna...oh, Doctor. I'm gonna..." and Rose pressed her fingers hard against him, pressing him against her pulsing spot while she threw her head back, a moan echoing in the room. The Doctor sat up suddenly, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face into her neck, sucking on her collarbone.

As Rose came down from her orgasm, she furiously began pumping the Doctor's very stiff member that was still in her hands. She captured his lips then, and they kissed hard. Teeth against tongue against lip against teeth again, smashing against one another as she jerked him again and again and until finally he came. His body stiffened and he locked eyes with her, their mouths still connected. His seed spilled over her fist and against his stomach but it didn't matter.

They sat very still. Eventually Rose moved back, released his now soft penis, and stood up next to the bed. She walked to her en suite and back, carrying a wash cloth. The Doctor raised his eyebrows as he leaned back, giving her his best puzzling expression.

"Shh now, no arguin'." Rose moved the warm damp cloth over him, cleaning away his mess. When she was finished, she tossed it towards a basket and leaned down, planting gentle kisses on his abdomen. Rose curled into his arm them, resting her face against his shoulder and drifting off to sleep. The Doctor played with her hair while he laid there. Rose felt how tense he was, how his body was so far from relaxed she wondered why he didn't just jump up and leave. There was a buzzing, or maybe a humming? His body was vibrating very gently below her cheek.

"'Wha's wrong?" Rose didn't look at him while she asked. Knew she would find pain in his face if she looked, so she kept her cheek planted and hoped that he would have the courage to tell her.

"I'm not just another bloke, Rose. This is going to take...time. Lots of time." His body kept humming to her, and Rose had the strangest image in her mind of a tightly wound coil. "I want to give you so much, but..." his voice reminded Rose of thunder and storms. Suddenly the Doctor shifted and stood up, placing Rose on the bed. She didn't resist. Somehow she knew he was about to do it. She knew he could only take so much of this sweetness and gentleness before his body rebelled.

The Doctor gave Rose a sad look. "You're fantastic." He turned and walked from the room. Rose let go of the breath she had been holding and rolled to her side. _Oh, Doctor._ Rose dreamed of Yezzale that night. She dreamed of hot rain and jagged looking mountains and wonderful orange trees.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you to the people reading this. Started off just wanting to write some smut, but somehow a story got lodged in here too. More sexy smut in the next chapter, promise. Let me know you're reading or what you think so far by leaving a review. I do so love those. If you're a graphic person like me, check out the tumblr for images to accompany each chapter. xoxo Emmy**


	5. Chapter 5

The pub was noisy and the tables were sticky, but for some ridiculous reason the Doctor had been positive he needed to come in for an ale. Rose was skeptical. All of time and space and he wanted to hang out in a regular ol' Irish pub?

"It's fun! We're havin' fun, Rose!" He winked at her.

"It's dirty here, and I thought we were going t' go see that place with the apple grass?" Rose huffed and crossed her arms, making her irritation evident. She'd been doing that a lot, actually. Being irritated. It probably had something to do with the fact that he was not visiting her bedroom at night, like she had expected him to begin doing. And it also could have been something about kind of shrugging when Jackie had asked if the two of them were finally an item. Actually, the Doctor was positive he was doing a lot more than irritating Rose at every turn, but he had warned her! He warned her that he wasn't quite ready to take their relationship...there. And he had been honest with her that he wasn't just an average bloke. He thought he had been crystal clear, really. Taking her to this pub was supposed to be an apology. He was trying to cheer her up, get her to smile at him again after nearly four days of her giving him the side eye from the jump seat in the console room.

"Have fun with me, Rose." He gave her a serious look, and Rose thawed. She was just so annoyed with him after shrugging at her mum. Rose had wanked him off all over her hands, had masturbated with him watching. They had kissed quite passionately two different times. They were definitely an "item"! But he was trying. She could see that he was trying to show her a good time, might even consider this a date.

"I thought you weren't just another bloke, Doctor."

"'m not! What makes you say that?" He looked offended and Rose couldn't help her giggle.

"Takin' me to a pub! Dozens 'f guys 'ave taken me out to a pub on a date. And here you are, so original."

"Did they take you to a pub in Ireland, 179 years in your future, though?"

"Oh, you're so impressive." She laughed.

"You know I am." He winked at her and Rose smiled, finally, and his hearts soared.

They sat and drank their ales, Rose cringing with every sip because 179 years in the future and the ales still tasted like rubbish. The Doctor didn't seem to mind, though. He tossed them back like lemonade and prodded her with questions and listened to her stories and added some of his own. Despite her earlier irritation, Rose found herself having a fantastic time.

"So, my turn for the all the questions, Doctor." She rose her eyebrows and squared her shoulders.

"Is that right? Well, let's see what you've got, Rose Tyler." He leaned forward and put his elbows on the table, staring her down.

"Number of lovers." It wasn't a question, not the way that Rose Tyler spoke. He narrowed his eyebrows and didn't speak.

"I think this game needs some rules."

"Oh, the Doctor and his rules!" Rose leaned forward on the table, matching his pose.

"If I have to answer, so do you."

"Fine. Four. You?" Rose spat her answer out like she was reciting her birthday. She waited.

"Wait, are you counting me?" The Doctor suddenly looked distressed, though his body remained forward on the table.

"You are not my lover. Would've had to be an item to be counted, Doctor."

"Well, no. One night stands are counted, aren't they?"

"Had many of those, Doctor?" Rose stilled as she waited for his answer.

"Now hold on, you're getting backed up on questions. Number of lovers, including one night stands, not including you apparently. Two." The Doctor sat back, squaring his shoulders. "No, have not had many one night stands. Have you?"

Rose bit her lip. Two? The man was nine centuries old! "Um, not many. Just two."

"That's 50%, Rose. I think that's many." His voice was low, his eyes watching her face so intently that she felt a blush creeping up her neck.

"Okay, fine. Had two one night stands." Rose took a swig of her ale. "They started in places like this, actually."

"Well, isn't this fun?" He looked morose. Rose felt badly, realizing that this was her idea of a game, and she apparently was the one with all the sexual experience.

"Sorry, but how are you this old and only had two lovers?"

"Want me to 'ave had more, do you?"

"Just wonderin'." She averted her eyes, swirling her finger around the bottle.

"Time Lords don't take lovers, Rose. It's not even a term I'm used to. I was married once, hundreds of years ago. The second was just experimenting, you know, rebellious years." He kept his eyes on her finger, moving in slow circles around the lip of her ale. "Next question?" He signaled for more drinks.

"Right. When are you going to make me your number three?" She grinned and raised her eyes to meet his.

"Ah, now we're getting somewhere. That's the question you've been wanting to ask since the first ale, isn't it? His eyes glimmered.

"Oh you, just answer."

"Can't! We're only answerin' questions that we can both answer, and that question isn't one I can just throw back at you, can I?" A waitress dropped off two more ales. The Doctor took a generous swig.

"Fine. When's the last time you wanked off?" The Doctor choked on his ale.

"Err... well, you see. This morning, I guess. While you were gettin' ready." He looked away, adorably embarrassed. "And you, Miss Tyler?" He seemed to be admiring a sign on the wall.

"This mornin', while I was gettin' ready." Their eyes met and they burst into laughter.

* * *

"Will ya dance with me?" Rose stood and looked at him expectantly.

"I don't dance, Rose. Just like I don't swim."

"Then pretend we're doin' somethin' else." Rose gave him that toothy grinned and tugged on his arm. Pretending exasperation, the Doctor stood and followed her to the floor. It felt wonderful to stretch his legs, and the alcohol felt even better in his mind. The Doctor embraced it, neglecting his rational mind in favor of doing things to please Rose. It was his mission for the night: please her as much as he could, as many times as he could, without, well...you know.

The Doctor wrapped his hands around her waist as Rose settled her fingers at his neck. She smiled up at him and he focused on moving his feet, leading her around the very small floor.

"Can I just say, Doctor, that you are so handsome." And then she laid her pink little cheek against his chest and let him lead. The Doctor's hearts stilled, his bypass forcing air through him. He kept moving, unsure what had prompted that little memento.

"Ah, this daft old face? Hush, you." But he was grinning. He was grinning so wide his face might have split.

"'s not daft. Distinguished. Sexy. Handsome. Rugged." Rose spoke against his chest, and that feeling...the feeling he'd been feeling for months and months now, well it swelled. He didn't think it was possible, but there it was-swelling right up. He must have looked a fool smiling that wide.

The music changed then, an upbeat kind of club noise. "Odd music for a pub, yeah?" Rose stilled her feet and looked up at him, the Doctor glancing around and noticing all of the people joining them on the floor.

"I definitely don't dance like this!" The Doctor chuckled and Rose turned, noticing the people grinding and moving their bodies in very explicit ways. A couple not far from them were snogging, the woman's leg hitched around his waist while he dipped her backwards. Rose's eyes bulged for just a moment. Never one to let opportunity pass her by, Rose turned her back to the Doctor's chest and began rubbing up against up, rocking her hips erratically with the beat.

"Lighten up, Doctor! It's fun! We're havin' fun, remember?" Rose raised her arms over her head and let the rhythm move her body. Her hips rocked backwards into the Doctor's, her denim bumping into his trousers again and again. And against all reason, the Doctor started moving too, his hands coming to a rest on Rose's moving hips, his body finding a grove that matched Rose's. Rassilion, he was too old to behave like this, dance like this, but she was having so much fun, and he owed her that.

The lights in the pub dimmed and the music seemed to get louder. Rose lost herself in the music, throwing her head back against the Doctor's chest and grinding her bum against him. She could feel stirrings, nothing definite, but the Doctor certainly wasn't complaining anymore. He seemed to moving in tune with her, their bodies as one. Sweat dripped down her neck and her face felt flush. Rose lifted her arms above her head and trailed her fingernails lightly down the Doctor's neck, and suddenly his hands lifted from her waist and found her arms, his own fingers running up and down the underside of her arms. His hands skated up and then back down, trailing under, to her armpit, down the sides of her breasts, to her stomach, and then back to her waist.

"I need some more ale!" Rose was flushed from the room, his attention. "Too hot!" The Doctor nodded and kissed the top of her hair before disappearing. Rose kept moving to the music, her eyes closed, her mind reveling at being in some kind of pub-club hybrid. She laughed to herself and thought about how her mate Shireen would react to a place like this. Oh, the stories she could tell back home.

Hands on her hips again, Rose smiled and turned around, looking for the cold ale. But the hands, and the body against her, were not the Doctor. Rose yelped and stepped back, her entire body recoiling from the stranger. The man didn't look offended in the least, shrugging and moving away. Rose spun around the floor, searching out the Doctor. She found his blue eyes watching her from their table, and she made her way over, collapsing into her seat.

"Rose Tyler, always makin' new friends!" His eyes were smiling, his voice full of laughter.

"Oi! Thought it was you, you git!" They laughed together, both happily cooling their bodies with the drinks.

"Are we done havin' fun here, then?" The Doctor asked, his hand finding hers across the table.

"Only if we're going t' have fun somewhere else."

* * *

Pissed though he might be, the Doctor tried to sort his mind out while they stumbled along the sidewalk in the vague direction of the TARDIS. That feeling...the one he'd been puzzling over and analyzing in his spare time, and the one he was positive now wasn't just lust but might be something more, was acting up. His body felt giddy and happy and serene and nervous. And Rose, Rose felt soft and warm and squishy under his arm, his beautiful human with those brown eyes and that sing song voice. His Rose, who had just a few minutes before been rubbing her bum against him, grinding on him like a teenager. _Oh. _

The Doctor stopped walking abruptly, yanking Rose backward as she tried to march forward.

"Doctor, what is it?" She focused her eyes on him, straining to stand up right despite all the drink in her body.

"I just...well, Rose, it seems that I have spontaneously developed an erection. And by spontaneous, I mean that I was thinking about that terrible music and the way you were dancing." He grinned, and Rose guffawed loudly, doubling over in hysterical laughter.

"'s not funny! Serious matter!" He stumbled forward and grabbed her around the waist, marching them forward towards the now visible TARDIS.

"Is tonight it, then? Gonna make me your lov'r?" She gasped between laughs, enjoying the wonderfully carefree Doctor.

"Hush, little human."

"Oi, don't you hush me!" They were inside then, tripping up the ramp and giggling like the drunken pair they were.

The Doctor stopped, pulling her against his body. "I'll make you hush." His eyes were dark pools, and Rose felt that now familiar surge of energy through her body. She snaked her hands to his hips and challenged him.

"How's that, then?" Her tongue between her teeth, smiling at him and making him melt and burn and heat up all at once. He put his heavy hands on her shoulders and raised his eyebrows. He looked dangerous and sexy, and Rose waited. Instead of answering, he pushed down with his hands, slowly making Rose lower. Realizing his game, Rose dropped her knees and looked up, the metal grating rough on her knees, but she was thankful for the denim protecting her.

His face was full of worry. Rose was hot and bothered just sitting there on her knees, waiting for him to make the move. But his face was twisted, his eyes panicked, his breathing ragged. Rose leaned in and let her mouth rest against the cloth of his trousers, his erection squirming and pushing from its confines. The Doctor's breath hitched as he watched her.

"Gonna shut me up, hmm? Gonna hav't...keep me quiet...somehow." Rose said the words against his cock, feeling wetness gather on his trousers. Rose expected she would have to move this along, and that was okay. He had certainly surprised her when he pushed her down, she didn't mind taking control now. But the Doctor's hands moved from her shoulders and came to his belt, slowly unclasping it. His face was tormented, but he kept going, unfastening his button and dragging his zipper down.

His breathing was erratic with Rose so close to him there. She was watching him with these trusting, sweet brown eyes. How could she trust him? He had just shoved her to the ground, was insinuating something very, very filthy, and she was smiling at him. Her hair all mussed around her head, her mouth wide in that gorgeous smile. But this was it. This thing was happening. Rose pulled his trousers down 'round his ankles, and he stood in front of her in his pants, his cock throbbing beneath the fabric. Rose leaned in and pressed her mouth against him. She swirled her tongue along the rough fabric, and then pulled back.

"Hush me, Doctor." A groan escaped his throat. His hands shakily came to rest on the waistband of his pants, and he looked to her for encouragement. Did she want this? Was he forcing her? His mind was so clouded now. The alcohol, the arousal, that feeling...all swimming around him and Rose Tyler had her hot little mouth teasing him through his pants and he just _had_ to. The Doctor shoved his pants down, his cock springing free and into Rose's waiting hand. Her hand was a bonfire engulfing him. Her breath was a flame that teased him. She moved her hand up his length and back down a few times, staring up at him the whole while.

"Hush. Me." Her words were a whisper up to him that drive him over the edge. The Doctor let out a growl from the back of his throat as he brought his hands down, one to Rose's head and the other to his cock. He laced his fingers through her silky yellow hair as he stroked himself, and then he was grabbing her by the back of the head and pushing his cock into her open mouth.

"Hushhhh..." The Doctor ached from the inside out. Her mouth around him was more pleasure than he ever deserved, but he couldn't stop. His hips jerked forward and his throat betrayed him with moan after his moan. She had a hold of his hips now, was digging her nails into his flesh as she practically swallowed him. His cock bumped the back of her throat and he expected her to pull back, but she only grew more excited. Rose rocked back and forth on her knees, bringing him deep down her throat and then back out.

He tasted like mint and trees on her tongue as Rose pulled back finally, running her tongue around the tip of his erection like a sweet. His fingers twisted in her air, and Rose raked her nails down his thighs to his knees before scraping back up. The noises he made were all the encouragement Rose needed. His cock seemed to swell harder and harder as she sucked and licked and swallowed around him. She brought her hands behind him and pressed her nails into his bum, forcing him closer. The Doctor trembled and his body jutted forward and Rose kept her mouth around him, making a gentle humming noise that vibrated through him. He could feel her humming vibrations in his ears, his lips, his toes.

He wanted to warn her that he was coming. He wanted to let her know, let her pull away, but words would not come. His throat constricted and felt dry and he was a ball of nerves when his seed shot out, spilling down Rose's throat. His knees shook and he fell forward, his hands catching himself against the console. He expected her to pull back, to jump up, but she sucked on him hungrily and swallowed his semen, running her tongue over his sensitive flesh.

Satisfied, Rose stood up and wrapped her arms around the Doctor's neck, burying her face against his chest.

"Rose," he choked, words desperately difficult. "I'm sorry...I should have...oh, I'm so sorry." He wrapped his arms around her and clutched her tight. The guilt swarmed him in waves, drowning him, haunting him.

"Shhh...I loved it." Rose peered up at him through her long lashes, and she looked so _kind_. The Doctor couldn't stand anymore, couldn't think anymore, couldn't rationalize anything. He tugged her hand and they stumbled to Rose's bedroom.

**A/N: Whovians are my favorite people. Thank you so, so much for the reviews and follows and favorites. You're all wonderful, and I hope you'll keep reading. More soon. If you love visuals before/during/after you read, please find some kinky things on the tumblr. Seducing-the-doctor dot tumblr dot com -xox Emmy **


	6. Chapter 6

Rose fell to her bed with a laugh, sitting up and pulling on her clothes. Her shirt went over her head, tossed aside, and she was shimming out of her jeans and knickers when she realized the Doctor wasn't helping her. He was just standing there, fiddling with his belt. In fact, he was closing his trousers up instead of shucking them off. No, no, no. This was not how it was supposed to go.

"Tha's it then? I blow you and you tuck me in, say goodnight?" Rose's eyes weren't kind anymore. She wasn't about to be understanding. It was time they did this, and she couldn't believe he wasn't about to shag her.

"Rose..." his voice caught in his throat. The Doctor was tormented. She wasn't going to fall for it again, though. She crossed her arms across her nearly bare chest and waited. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't 'ave done that."

"I wanted it, too, Doctor. But now is where you reciprocate." Her anger was not dissipating, not melting.

"Rose, I told you...I can't just rush into this." His face was screwed up, he looked pained.

"Rush? Ha! It's been months! Nearly a year since I ran away with you, six months since you took me to Yezzale!" She stood, angrily unclasping her bra and throwing it on the ground, putting her hands on her naked hips. Standing there in nothing but her knickers, she kind of expected him to react. But the Doctor was the Doctor, and he sighed heavily and ran his hands over his face.

"Is that it, then? You think six months is a lifetime, don't you? Six months is a blip, a moment, a negligible amount of time to me! I have been alive for nine centuries, Rose, and you are the first human I have ever even considered doing this with. Excuse me if I don't want to just throw everything away so that we can get off real quick!" His eyes were angry, his hands in fists at his side.

"Well I 'avn't got nine centuries, do I? Excuse me for wantin' to make the most 'f my short little life!"

The Doctor's face contorted with pain at her words, and he stepped closer to her. He raised his hand to her cheek, and Rose could feel the tremble in his body. She tried to search his eyes, to make him understand what she was feeling, but his eyes closed as he stood there, caressing her cheek.

"I'm sorry." And he walked out her door, away. The Doctor always runs away.

Hardly able to believe that he'd walked out on her, Rose marched to her door and slammed it. She hoped the loud noise hit him, hoped he heard how angry she was. She also cursed herself, realizing that door slamming was probably somewhere on the same line as petulant little immature human girl behavior. Rose's heart was beating a thunderstorm in her chest, rage and arousal and pity and sex all swirling through her body.

She pushed her knickers aside then, sat down on the edge of her bed, and forcefully started rubbing herself. There were no slow caresses or a gentle build up. Rose rubbed her clit again and again, pressing her thumb against the nub and dipping her finger into herself. Pleasure fizzled under her skin, and Rose kept rubbing, her other hand grabbing her nipple and yanking on it. Cursing herself for doing it, Rose closed her eyes anyway and pictured the Doctor. She imagined his fingers rubbing her, imagined his hand squeezing her sensitive flesh. She bucked her hips and grunted, her body savage with the need to get off, to release this tension. As she pictured him spreading her open and pushing his hard cock inside her, not checking if she were ready but just thrusting into her, Rose remembered his eyes. How tortured he looked.

Rose kept the picture of him in her mind, his face a dangerous mess but his cock an angry force, and Rose fucked her fingers and rubbed her clit, her own moans coming out in sobs. When Rose came, her body jerked in a spasm and she fell backwards against her blankets, tears streaming from her eyes. She rolled over, burying her face in her pillow as her body shook with tears.

* * *

Alone in his study, the Doctor drummed his fingers against his temple. He was in the wrong, he knew that. He should not have, under any circumstance, let her do what she did to him on her knees in the console room. He should not have had so much to drink, should not have let her dance the way that she danced. But damnit if Rose Tyler didn't do exactly what she wanted regardless of if he 'let' her or not.

But he was also wrong when he left her in that room alone. He shouldn't have let her do what she did and then walked away. At that point, the act had happened, and he really should have reciprocated, but the way she acted! So self-righteous! Like she was the only one sufferin' here! The way she had become angry with him—well, all it did was justify his hesitation. He didn't want to ruin things with Rose Tyler, didn't want to go into that deep and special place unless he was sure that the two of them were _it. _And frankly, tonight had only shown him that he had no idea if they were _it._ No idea what Rose Tyler was, or what he was to her, or where to go from here.

The Doctor could have cried. He felt like he was missing a very important part of himself as he sat there alone, and sadness overwhelmed him when he realized that she was what was missing. He missed her and she was just down the hall. He missed her after the way she had behaved. He missed her in spite of the argument. That feeling inside him felt jagged and wretched and nothing at all like the blissful giddiness it usually felt like. What the bloody hell was it?

For a while, the Doctor suspected love. He toyed with the idea in his mind and had to admit that it didn't feel bad, to possibly be in love with Rose. He tested it on his tongue a few times in the mirror, but it felt foreign and a little bit salty. He longed to get an opinion, but the Doctor couldn't very well ring an old mate and ask what they thought about the pitiful longing sadness miss-her-when-she's-gone infuriating and confusing and wonderful feeling. No, this was definitely something the Doctor needed to solve, nay, conquer on his own.

The floor beneath him had begun squeaking. When did that happen? He'd been pacing back and forth in his study for some time when the noise interrupted him, making him look around the room in confusion. He waited, and the TARDIS answered. A soft hum, a comforting sensation. The ol' girl was trying to calm him down. Realizing that his feelings were getting a bit...out of control, the Doctor sighed and walked to his bedroom. His whole body felt bad. He felt bad in his hearts, in his stomach, in his mind, in his fingertips. It was new, this sadness that had nothing to do with a planet in peril or a lost companion or the genocide of his people. What gave him the right to be so _sad_ when all of those things were happening, or had happened, all over the galaxy? Guilt flooded him. Always with the guilt.

In his room, the Doctor laid on his bed and crossed and recrossed his arms. He wanted to jump up and go find an adventure, go run around the stars with Rose's hand in his, but he had a feeling they weren't doing any of that any time soon. He wondered what she was thinking. Did she hate him now? Did she want to go home? The idea that she might hate him made him feel queasy, and the idea of taking her back to London was an ache in his chest. Unable to resist not knowing how she felt for one more second, the Doctor fumbled around in his bedside drawer for the TARDIS mobile.

*Do you hate me?* He decided to be bold, and it was so much easier than asking her in person. Where he'd have to look at that face while she told him that yes, she did. It was easier to type it on the little keyboard than face the truth that Rose Tyler was sick of his rubbish old self.

*Could never hate you.*

The Doctor's brow wrinkled in confusion. His hearts sped up, suddenly feeling like they were lodged in his throat.

*I could never hate you, either.* That was a pretty good declaration of feeling, right? He chewed on his lip and sighed impatiently.

*you are so romantic.* Rose Tyler was being sassy in text message. A smile ghosted over his lips as he thought about her being sarcastic, and the way she was probably rolling her eyes at him.

*I'm sorry, Rose. I'll try harder.* He nodded at that, sure he could keep that promise. She deserved more than this. He realized that his anger had faded, and as he exchanged messages with her that horrible feeling was ebbing, and the nice one was coming back little by little.

Suddenly Rose was standing in the doorway to his bedroom. She wore one of his jumpers—where did she get that?-and her arms crossed across her waist.

"Seemed like a conversation we ought to have in person." She looked shy, and the Doctor wanted nothing more than to envelope her with himself, protect her from the moody and dark sides of himself. He patted the bed next to him, and Rose walked towards him, climbing on to the big bed. As soon as she was next to him, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. His nose rubbed against her hair, and her chin settled near his throat.

"I'll try to be better for you, Rose." He said the words into her hair, and his arms tightened his hold on her.

"No, I want you. All of you. My Doctor," her finger tips traced circles on his jumper.

"I just want to make sure this is right before we do it, Rose. It has to be right," He was pained even saying, even admitting aloud that they might not be right.

"Doctor, can I ask why? Why's it so important you make sure we're 'right'? Why aren't you jus' sure like I am?" She was grateful that they weren't looking at one another. She didn't think she could handle how intense she was sure his gaze was about to be.

He sighed deeply. "I'm not human, Rose. And my people, they didn't go around shagging humans, ever. Doing this with you will break every rule and law the Time Lords ever made. It goes against everything that my people believed. And I killed them, Rose. I killed my own people...I can't disrespect them in this way unless I am sure, absolutely positive that you an' me are _it._"

Rose wrapped her arms around him. She made sure her voice would be even before she spoke. This was the big one. "And what is _it, _Doctor?"

"Well." He kissed the top her head, closed his eyes. "_It_ refers to, you know, the one. The one great and true love. It's the only kind of situation that Time Lords would understand, if they were alive, if I hadn't killed them."

"When will ya know?" Rose held her breath, stunned at his confessions.

"No idea. I'll just...know. Do you think you can wait for me?" His grip tightened on her, and Rose knew she wanted to say yes. That she would wait forever, would always wait, yet another part of her resisted, knowing that Rose didn't have forever. But still, what were her choices? Wait for god knows how long for him to admit his feelings, or leave. Both options left Rose feeling vacant, scared, hopeless.

"I'll try harder." The Doctor felt overwhelming sadness at her words. He wanted her to say yes, wanted to hear her understand him, but instead she radiated an acceptance, a struggle. The Doctor ached to be different, to be exactly what Rose needed, instead of this complicated and old, old alien. Self loathing nothing new to the Doctor, he let out a steady breath and gathered Rose closer to him, shifting them down the bed. Rose moved naturally, her body on its side and her arm and face splayed on him. Everything felt pained again, but without the sharp edges. There was no anger anymore, just a dull and sad pain.

Neither of them spoke again that night. Rose fell asleep against his chest, and the Doctor practiced keeping his breathing even all night. Breathe in, breathe out, and so on until Rose woke again.

* * *

There was a church on a hill. The sky was tinted pink and purple with a gorgeous sunset, and the wind felt like little fingers against her cheeks. The walls of the church were stone, and Rose pressed her palm against them to feel that cold and cracked solidness. She walked around the small building slowly, caressing that ache in her chest.

The Doctor was inside, talking up a storm, questioning the locals about a factory up the road that he was suspicious of. Rose meant to go inside with him, meant to do her own questioning, but the sight of the church stopped her. He paused, she'd give him that. He had definitely paused and seemed to question with his eyes why she had stopped, but Rose waved him on. She caught the strangest glimpses of him lately. She'd be looking at a book or talking to someone and glance over at him to see his face covered in pain. But just like that—it would disappear and he'd get right back to work. Rose suddenly related to his pained face. She felt it as she stared at that church. She felt like her life was a small and meaningless thing, and she couldn't help shake the feeling like her life was ending soon. Like this was all there was for her in the whole galaxy—standing outside a church by herself. She couldn't explain it if she tried, couldn't put words around these feelings.

She reached up and wiped a tear from her cheek when the Doctor's hand startled her. He put his hand in hers and looked in her eyes, and it was too late to hide the painful feelings. He'd seen.

"What is it?" He didn't look concerned, not really. He looked like he understood exactly, and was only asking because he knew he should.

Rose shook her head and turned, fearful of the sound of her own voice.

"Rose. Tell me." He looked stern, but he didn't he pull on her or try to make her face him. He just stood with his hand in hers and waited.

"'s nothing. Just. Well, I always thought I'd get married in a church like this." Rose used her free hand to wipe the tears that were now flowing steadily down her cheeks. She shouldn't have said it, shouldn't have made him feel bad. It wasn't his fault, and they'd both promised to try harder.

"Who says you still won't?" He ducked his head around her and gave her a half smile. Rose swore she heard her own heart crack.

"Doctor...don't." And she walked away, letting her hand fall out of his. It was Rose this time. Rose was the one running away.

* * *

Jackie made them tea and prattled on about the neighbors. Rose nodded, half listening. Her eyes were on the Doctor. He was at the window, staring out. She had begged him to come up with her, terrified that if she left him alone in the TARDIS she'd never see him again.

"Well?" Jackie seemed to be asking a question.

"Sorry, what was that?" Rose tore her eyes away from the Doctor and met her mother's.

"Not you, I'm talkin' to him! Comes into my house and can't even 'ave a conversation with me, what a gentleman this one is!" Jackie huffed. The Doctor turned, his face stone. Rose glanced back and forth between them. "I said, when are you gon' give me my daughter back, Doctor?"

"I heard you the first time." He shoved his hands in his pockets, and his eyes found Rose's."I never had her, Jackie."

* * *

"What's this?" The Doctor held a small photograph with torn edges and looked at it confused.

"Oh, jus' a baby picture. Mum said I should 'ave it with me," The photo showed an infant Rose wrapped in her mother's arms. The Doctor couldn't say why, but the sight of Rose as a baby was overwhelming.

"Can I have it?" He didn't know why he'd just asked her that. He had no right to it, but it called to him. It reminded him of her youth, of how fragile Rose was, of how far she had come. Everything about the picture made him want to cry and laugh and he felt relieved when Rose just looked at him nodded instead of asking why.

He put the photo in a silver frame and stuck it in a drawer in his study. He couldn't have it out, couldn't bare to look at it very often, but it calmed him to know it was there. He became determined to get a more recent one, too.

* * *

Eight months since Yezzale, two months since the night at the pub. Their lives were different. Rose ran and ran and ran on their adventures, always moving on to the next mystery, the next creature in need, always moving. The Doctor felt her drifting, and the feeling inside him was no longer giddy or happy at all. He held on to it, though, hopeful. He saw her wearing herself out each day, saw her collapsing into bed each night and sleeping deeply. The Doctor knew she was trying to distract herself, keep her mind busy and worn out so that she wouldn't have to face what was happening between them. They were growing apart.

He had no idea how to fix them, didn't know if he should fix them. He wasn't right for her. He was going to live for hundreds more years, and she had so much less than a hundred left. And here he was, sucking those precious years up. Stealing her youth away in a greedy desire to be around her. He couldn't even bring himself to tell her that he loved her, or make love to her, and so why she stayed at all he had no idea. Every morning when she joined him in the console room, he held his breath and waited for her to tell him it was time to take her home. So far it hadn't happened, but it'd only been two months. Eventually she would realize how much more she deserved. She'd realize that she deserved to get married to someone who could give her his whole self, deserved to have children, deserved to get a mortgage and make tea every morning and never be afraid that she was about to die millions of miles away from home without ever seeing her mum again.

He stood in the console room and waited. She'd be awake soon, and if she didn't tell him that it was the day to take her home, then they'd have to talk. Have to resolve this. He owed her so much more than this life. He thought of the day he met her, the day he had grabbed her hand and they had run away. He remembered how broken he was then, and smiled because she'd fixed him. Just about two little years, and she'd given him so much. He needed to give her the gift back, give her a fantastic life instead of one full of an old and guilt ridden Time Lord.

He heard her footsteps behind him. This was it. Time for the Time Lord to paste his best smile on. Time to pretend this was okay. Time to act like his hearts were not severed and bleeding organs without her. Time to let go of her. He turned to face her, and he couldn't help the small smile on his face. She was wearing his jumper again, her arms wrapped around herself. It'd been so long since she had come out like this. Lately she only joined him when she was fully clothed and ready to bolt out the door.

"'s cold in here." She hugged herself and scooted into the jump seat. He didn't have words, didn't know what to say. She wasn't ready for an adventure, which only meant the other thing. He waited, stealing his body against what he was sure was coming. The TARDIS hummed comforting sounds to him, and he found the courage to meet her eyes.

"I don't feel like goin' to a new planet...or time today." She spoke softly.

"I understand." And he did. He understood all of time and space and most of the time he pretended he understood Rose Tyler, but it wasn't until that moment that he really thought he did. He understood. She was ready for her life back, and he had to give it to her. "So, back to London, then? Powell Estate comin' up." He turned and began fiddling.

"What? No, I don't want to go there, either." She stood and her hand was on his shoulder. That delicate little hand stopping his entire body. "Stop. Don't take me home."

"Rose...it's okay. You had to leave eventually." He turned and faced her.

"Oh...I see. Time fo' me to go, huh?" Rose's lip trembled, and the Doctor realized he was confused. Why was she sad? He was the one losing everything. She was the one that was finally going to be walking away.

"You know it is." Didn't she? He put his hands on her biceps, rubbing them up and down in what he hoped was soothing.

"I'm not it then, huh? When'd you know?" Tears fell down her cheeks and Rose closed her eyes against him, his face still baring down on her.

"What are you talking about?" The Doctor's body was cold now, too. He used all of his concentration to keep from shaking.

"It! _It. _When did you know that 'm not your...what was it? Your one great love? How long 'ave you been lettin' me carry on thinkin' I still had a shot?" She was sobbing now, her body held up only by his hands so firm on her arms.

"Rose, I never said you weren't. But you need to go have a life. A real life, I can't give you what you deserve."

Gulping a few times, Rose wiped her cheek and looked at him. "You think this life with you isn't real? Who are you to decide what I deserve and what I don't?" She screamed at him, her words sharp and prickly and painful against him. "This is the most real life, most amazing life I could ask for. I don't want to go back home and forget you! I want you, Doctor! Always, always you!"

"You deserve a man, not an alien. You deserve children, not planets. You deserve to be happy, and I can't remember the last time you smiled because of me." It hurt to say it out loud, but it was true. When did they become so difficult? Rose and the Doctor used to be the easiest thing in the universe.

Wiping her cheeks one more time, Rose reached up and grabbed his neck. "Stop being so daft, Doctor. I love you." And she smashed her mouth on his, moving her lips softly, letting him respond in his own way.

The Doctor dropped his hands from her arms and wrapped them around her back. He lifted her then, her legs instantly wrapping around his waist. She was everything, he realized. Rose Tyler was absolutely everything. He returned her kiss, his mouth opening to her and letting her tongue snake in. He set her gentle on the console, his hands creeping up her body, finding her hair, tugging her golden locks lightly. He couldn't say it yet, couldn't tell her that as soon as she said the words, that feeling inside him blossomed and stopped hurting so much. He couldn't get the words out, but he tried to show her with his mouth.

Rose pulled back quickly, gasping for breath. Her cheeks were flushed and stained with dry tears, and his earlier arguments seemed so juvenile.

"If you stay with me, I can't give you all the normal things. Can't give you children, Rose. I can only give you all the things I've already been giving. Can only show you the stars and the galaxies, just like we've been doing. I don't have anything else." He needed her to understand what she would be giving up. He needed her to understand.

"All I ever wanted was you, Doctor." Their lips met again, hungry and needy and desperate.

* * *

**A/N: I have to admit that I cried writing this one, guys. Whew! Their story isn't quite over, though. More to come soon. Thank you for the marvelous reviews. Please leave me your thoughts, I so love to read them. xox Emmy **


	7. Chapter 7

**It's come to my attention that if you are reading on your mobile app, you should select "read online" instead of "read now" so that the section breaks appear. If you don't do this, all my sections just blend together and you'd probably think I'm a pretty rubbish writer. **

* * *

"Come on," Rose tugged his hand gently, and he followed behind her. Bile rose up in his stomach. He wasn't ready to do what he was fairly certain Rose was about to try to get them to do yet again. But he'd said no so many times, he'd turned her away and hurt her enough. He swallowed the guilt and fear down, and let her lead him. Maybe she was the one, his _it. _Maybe this was when he was supposed to realize that Rose Tyler was the great love of his life and he could finally take this step. But as they got closer to his room—he noticed that they were headed to his room this time, not hers, how odd—the feelings of uncertainty wouldn't subside. 900 years old or not, the Doctor wasn't ready to do this with her, no matter what she might end up being to him later.

In the bedroom, Rose faced him again. She lifted her chin up to him and caught his lips between hers again. Her hands grabbed the lapels of his jacket. The Doctor kissed her back, letting the taste of her sweet mouth mix with his, delighting in the softness of her lips against his. He longed to stay this way, to not break the kiss, to keep them tangled in this moment forever if only to avoid what he was about to do.

When she broke her lips away, Rose saw his eyes. He was still full of pain, still a tortured man. A sad smile played on her lips as she pushed his leather jacket from his shoulders. He watched her in confusion. He knew she saw it, knew he wasn't hiding it very well, but she kept undressing him. His jumper came off, he even raised his arms and let her pull it away. She walked him backwards towards his bed, and pushed him in the chest to make sit on the edge of the bed. Rose knelt down on the ground and unlaced his boots. He tried to puzzle what she was doing. Would Rose really force this, even with the way he was looking at her? Was the human condition really so obsessed with sex that she would have her way, even though he was sending her every non-verbal signal he could manage to tell her he couldn't do this. His brain swam in a haze of pain. Rose meant so much to him, so so much. He was about to forsake everything for her, so she could have this moment of happiness that she seemed to be trying to get from him for so long now. And how was she acting? She was taking control. She had to know this was wrong. She pulled him to standing again and unfastened his belt. His hands trembled at his side. Rose pulled his trousers down, and he stepped out of them, his body covered in gooseflesh, his chest aching with sadness.

"Lay down, on your stomach." Rose nodded toward the bed, and the Doctor only stared at her. Was he missing something? Surely humans didn't do it quite like that...

"Rose?" He hoped she could see it in his eyes. He begged her silently to understand that he was too broken to do this, too old, too conflicted.

"'m going to give you a massage, yah?" She looked a little bit sad, too, he realized. Oh, Rose... He realized she was still dressed, fully clothed, her! She had him in nothing but his pants and she was telling him to lay down on a bed. "You trust me, don't ya?" She was pulling her hair back with a tie, her face framed in little tendrils that had already escaped.

The Doctor continued to stare at her. Suddenly he wasn't sure what was happening. "It's fine...we can just, get started. Don't need all that first." He gave her a half smile and lifted his hands to the hem of her blouse, exposing her stomach as he went to undress her.

"No. Stop." the Doctor froze. He searched her eyes. Wasn't this what she wanted? This entire time, isn't this the reason for all of their problems, because she wanted to shag and he didn't think it was the right time? And here he was about to give her what she wanted, granted it was against everything he felt, now she didn't want it?

"Rose?" He questioned for the second time, aware that nothing made sense anymore.

"We're not havin' sex. Okay? I couldn't anyway, not with the way you're looking all moony. But it's time someone spoiled the Doctor. Now, lay down for me."

He tried to ignore the fireworks in his chest bursting in joy. She understood. Of course she did. This was Rose Tyler, the woman who understood everything he asked her to.

"I...uh, well." He mumbled as he laid down on his stomach, feeling more self conscious than he ever had in his 900 years. Rose shuffled around and then climbed over his legs. _Oh. _She had taken her jeans off, and he felt her soft skin on his as she sat down on the back of his thighs and ran her fingers over his back. His body trembled. No one had ever touched him like this, and the idea was thrilling. Rose placed her hands between his shoulder blades and added some pressure, slowly rubbing into knots that he didn't know where there. She worked at them, her clever fingers massaging and prodding and relaxing his flesh. When she was quite satisfied with his upper back, Rose began caressing his lower back. The Doctor found himself moaning when she massaged a tender spot, tension leaking from him. Rose shifted her body, and he felt the softest kiss being pressed into the spot, and the Doctor couldn't stop the smile that splayed across his face.

Everywhere that her fingers went, the Doctor felt a trail of heat. She was burning him up, searing his flesh with her own, scaring him with the love she felt for him. He didn't speak, but he didn't hold back the occasional moan or grunt of pleasure as she massaged.

"My Doctor." Rose whispered the words against his back before leaning up and shifting, her body now beside him on the bed. She took his arms and began kneading the flesh of his triceps, his bicep, his forearm, his wrist, the palm of his hand. She stood and came around the other side and gave the same treatment to his other arm. The Doctor sighed happily, and rolled to his side to face her. His face was tired with contentment, his lips curved into a smile. Rose returned the smile and let him pull her down and wrap her in his arms. She nestled her head into his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"Love you, my Doctor," she mumbled against his skin. But he heard her. Oh, he certainly heard her.

"Sleep, my lovely girl."

* * *

As the hours passed with Rose sleeping in his arms, the Doctor found joy in the silence. He loved holding her, loved looking at her without her knowing, loved having her scent so close to his face. For the hundred and twelfth time that day, the Doctor wished he were better for her. He wished that he were as carefree as his sweet human companion, could let go of all of the things plaguing him. He imagined his mother, his ancient Time Lord mother and her sad eyes asking him to really think this through. He imagined his daughter and her quirking eyebrows telling him to be sure. He held his head in his hands and thought of the worlds he had saved begging him to be cautious. The Doctor knew his role in this universe was great, and the pressure and guilt and sorrow and joy mingled as one in his hearts, left him weak. He dreamed of telling her those words and making her his in every fathomable way, but there was too much between them.

Time was running out. Rose was right when she yelled about having a short life. He hated thinking about it, but it was true. She was going to die someday, and the Doctor realized that he absolutely could not let that happen without her knowing. The truth was that he was pretty sure about her being _it. _He was almost certain that Rose Tyler was his one great love, the woman he was meant to be with forever. The more he thought about it, the more he lamented how alone he'd be when she was gone. The Doctor imagined what it would be like to have loved Rose Tyler and then lost her, to have to go on as the Doctor saving people and all that without her. The idea of another companion was sickening. Sighing once more, the Doctor rested his head next to Rose's and closed his eyes, praying to...someone, something, for clarity.

* * *

In a jail cell near on the moon of the planet Dalasia, Rose watched the Doctor fiddle with his leather jacket, pulling out bits of rubbish as he looked for the right item. She laughed at him, calling him a hoarder for having so many different kinds of gum, and smiled when he produced his treasure.

"A bobby pin? What the bloody hell are ya going to do with tha'?"

But the Doctor only grinned and fiddled with the handcuffs that were binding her. Free from chains, they crept down the hallway, eager to find the fool who had swiped the Doctor's screwdriver.

"Where'd you get that, anyway?" Rose whispered as they crouched down low.

"Hmm? The bobby pin? Oh, from you."

"Me? When did you swipe tha', you thief?" She giggled, clasping her hand over mouth to be quiet.

"Oh, I dunno. Four months ago you left it on the counter in the kitchen, and I thought it might be nice to have a bit o' you in my pocket. What?" He narrowed his eyes at her and she shook her head, her face pleased.

* * *

"Do you remember our first date?" He held her hand and watched as she sniffed the unfamiliar flower. Her little nose wrinkled.

"'Course I do! We 'ad chips." The Doctor's hearts pounded in his ears. He nodded to a different flower for her to sniff, and she leaned in.

"Yeah, but somethin' before that." Rose looked puzzled, her eyes questioning him. Those eyes.

"Umm...the plastics?" Rose handed over some change and accepted the bouquet of flowers from the merchant.

"I'm thinkin' of the part where you saved my life." The Doctor's words were gentle, his face serious. "And I'm thinkin' of how you save it again and again, every time you look at me like that."

* * *

"Doctor, I want you t' know. Even if...even I'm not you know, _it_ for you. Even if you decide after everythin' that you and me are not goin' _there_. I want you t' know that you are it for me. You are my one great love, no matter wha' you say." Her words lingered in his ears, calling to him. He was her great love. It was an honor, a privilege.

The Doctor thought, not for the first time, how unfair it was to be living with centuries and galaxies and dimensions between them. He wished that time and space were fair, and that he could let himself be selfish just this once. Rose sighed in her sleep, and he found his eyes glued to her chest as it rose and fell. He watched her steady breathing mindlessly, letting himself have a few precious moments without tormenting thoughts. Her breasts rose, and an image of her standing bare chested in front of him with her hands on her hips flashed before his eyes. He remembered the way that she had jutted her chin forward like she was so brave and so angry, but he had noticed the way her bare thighs had trembled. His eyes followed the curves of her body down to those beautiful thighs. He admired the lacy lines of her knickers, and remembered the time she had taken those off for him. The time she had spread herself for him and showed him everything, let him watch her do..._that._ He felt himself begin to respond, and cursed himself for letting his thoughts stray. The best way to keep Rose from demanding sex was definitely not to get aroused while she slept in his arms.

But still...she slept peacefully enough. Her lips were parted just so, and he couldn't take his eyes off of them once he noticed them. Those lips! He found himself grinning as he thought about the few times they had snogged, the few times that their lips had made perfect harmony in ways that their brains and limbs and words never managed. And he remembered the time she had kissed him while on her knees. Possibly his lowest point, the Doctor still had trouble with the reality that he had let her do that. She had been so seductive that night, so absolutely sexy that the Doctor forgot who he was and why he should stop and where he was. Rose had this ability to make him forget all sorts of things, which was both dangerous and thrilling. His mind vividly recalled that night...the way her tongue had run over his cock, her mouth taking him deeper and deeper, the feeling of her swallowing around him. She was amazing, this woman. He shifted slightly, hoping that Rose wouldn't notice the bulge awakening in his pants.

She moved one arm over her head, and her shirt rode up, exposing the flesh of her stomach. The Doctor's eyebrows moved up, suddenly fascinated with her navel. It was like he had never seen her before, and the Doctor had to shift and move down the bed to get a better view. Rose didn't seem to notice his absence, but his eyes shifted nervously from her face to her stomach as he examined the new flesh. It occurred to him that in all the times he had seen...well, all of Rose, he'd not properly seen the small parts. He'd been so distracted by her hands grabbing at those gorgeous breasts, or her fingers rubbing her slick lips apart. He'd not truly seen her sweet little navel, or, for that matter, her calves. The Doctor scooted further down the bed on his stomach, bringing his face even with her knees. His eyes greedily memorized the dimple in her knees before turning his head slightly to try to see her calves.

He saw a small mole on her thigh, and the Doctor scooted back up, his face very close to the mole. How long had she had that? He wanted desperately to lick that spot, not sexually, but just because he was certain it had never been licked before. He resisted, but only because he feared waking Rose. If she woke and found him hovering over her lower region like this, she'd...well, she'd probably look at him exactly the way she was looking at him just then.

"'ello." She sat up on her elbows and stared down her Doctor.

"Hi." He smiled at her. No use pretending he wasn't doing what he was doing. "I was just havin' a look. Never knew you had this mole!" He sound accusatory, as if Rose should have alerted him to every mark on her skin.

"Tha' right?" Her eyes twinkled as she looked down at him. He skimmed his fingers over her leg, now surprisingly happy to have her awake. He grinned and nodded at her, focusing his attention back to her leg. The Doctor lifted her leg then and rubbed his nose along her calf. Rose giggled at him. "Wha' are you doin'?"

"Inspectin'! Investigatin'! No calf left unturned!" The Doctor gave her his best smile and lifted her leg over his head, shifting so that he was laying on his stomach between her legs. Rose's breath hitched, just a little, but he noticed. He leaned over her thigh and licked the mole, his tongue dancing across her skin before darting away. "Yep, tastes like Rose. Good to know, that!" He leaned his face against her thigh, smiling up at her.

"It's a nice view, you 'tween my legs like this." Rose teased. "Could get used t' it, tha's for sure."

"Oh, so could I, Rose." He inched just a little higher up, his hands running up and down her leg, sending goosebumps up her body. "Thing is, I've been thinkin'. And you and I, well, we've done all sorts of things we shouldn't 've." Rose raised her eyebrows and listened. "But ya know what is so odd? So completely inappropriate?" His breath ghosted over stomach as he moved up, bit by bit. "I have never touched you. Not the way you have touched me." This time it was his eyebrows raised as he waited for her to respond.

His hearts pounded with anxiety. He knew this was risky. Knew he was crossing lines that he often said he didn't want to cross. But, the Doctor rationalized, as long as it wasn't sex... He leaned he nose down and nudged her sex, the fabric heated through against his skin.

"Doctor..." She looked worried, now.

"Shh...lay back." He kissed her inner thigh, kissed the mole.

Rose lowered herself back down, and the Doctor noted with excitement that her thighs were trembling again, the way they had that night. He brought his hands up to her waist and carefully pulled on the lace fabric. Rose lifted her hips as he slid them away. He rolled to his side, helping her long legs out of her knickers. There. Rose Tyler was spread open for him again, but this time he was going to touch. Rose brought her hand down to his face, cupped his cheek.

"I love you." Her voice was thick with emotion.

"Oh, I know." He lowered his head then, bringing his mouth right over sex. "I have wanted to taste you for so long, Rose." His tongue darted out and swiped across her slick heat. Rose's body jerked up. She was a ball of tension, of emotions, of nerve endings. He licked her again, this time savoring the salty and sweet taste of Rose Tyler's arousal. He brought his hand up between her legs and let his fingers move over her. Spreading her lips apart, the Doctor leaned in and kissed the spot that made Rose's body shake.

He continued that way for some time, kissing her clitoris, rubbing against it with his fingers, and licking her folds. Rose moaned and squirmed, but he kept his weight against her legs, holding her in place. He'd never actually done this before, but he took the noises she was making as encouragement, and tried to ignore the pesky way her body seemed to be trying to run away from the pleasure. "Mmm.." He hummed against her and, taking her by surprise, slipped a finger into her.

"Oh!" Rose screamed, her hips lifting off the bed. He moved his finger inside of her experimentally, mapping a course of pleasure as outline by Rose's reactions. He continued to move his tongue deftly against her clit, smiling into her whenever she cried out. It was an odd, exciting feeling when he realized she was nearing orgasm. He felt her walls quivering around his finger, felt her body shaking in a rather erratic way, felt her her little bud pulsating. Her hands flew around him, grabbing his face, his ear, the back of his head. The Doctor continued his movement, her climax a reverie around him.

When her body stilled, the Doctor pulled back and leaned his head against her thigh. Her body was overheated, sweat glistening on her forehead.

"I do love you." Rose huffed the words before throwing her arm across her face, panting.

"Mmm." He leaned up and kissed her navel before standing and walking to the en suite.

* * *

**A/N: I'd love to hear your thoughts so far. Please leave a review, even if it's just a few words. Many wonderful thanks to all of you who have been so vocal so far. The story isn't quite over...I hope you'll stay tuned. **


	8. Chapter 8

There were definite moments when Rose Tyler wondered what in the bloody hell she was doing. To be fair, 89% of the time Rose was positive that this was the life for her: running around seeing the stars, holding the hand of the man she loved, making little tiny imprints of herself and the Doctor on history. But the other 11% of the time she allowed herself the terrifyingly real moments of fear. Her insides would knot up, her brain in a hectic haze, and body covered in a sheen of sweat as she realized that this was her life: running from danger, never having her love returned, and being forgotten by all the people she cared for as they lived their lives back home.

Rose found herself wondering sometimes if she was making a huge mistake. She knew the things she was giving up for him. She knew she was never going to get married, never have a child, never have a home or a garden or a terrace or a diamond ring or a book club or a grandchild or a silver anniversary. Most of the time the Doctor made her life feel brilliant, but Rose couldn't help that selfish bit of her that wished he would be just a little different. Wished he would try the slow life out with her, wished he would sweep her off her feet and kiss her til her knees were weak (though she realized that those two things couldn't really happen happen at the same time, but that wasn't the point). Even though she loved the Doctor with all of her being, so much that sometimes her heart ached and her body felt like it existed for no one else besides him, even though he was the reason that Rose woke up every morning excited to be alive, she was a human Earth girl. And human Earth girls occasionally had moments of wanting traditional Earth-like things.

She was having one of those frightening moments on the planet of Scarusa some 7,000 years in her future. It was a hostile place, but the Doctor had dropped in to check on a distress call he had received. Many hours later they had ended up separated while he tried to negotiate and she lay strapped to a table in someone's lab. The Scarusan man poked her in the stomach and made noises, and Rose focused her breathing. She tried to remember good times. Reminded herself of the hand holding, the hugging, those few times their lips had met. She thought of her mum, of Mickey, of Shireen, of her mates at the shop. She thought of cherry blossoms and white puffy clouds and the way the Doctor smiled at her when he thought she was being brilliant.

Her hair was being pulled, a stale breath puffing near her ear. Rose clenched her eyes tighter. This would end. The Doctor would be along any moment now. Rose forced herself to think of holding his hand in the basement in Cardiff, of dancing with him in the pub, of kissing his back while she massaged it. She felt scaly and cold things rubbing on her neck, and she recoiled her face away, aching to be able to run. Something tugged on her ear. Rose remembered his face between her legs, smiling up at her. Remembered the weight of his arm around her back and his hand on her hip whenever he wanted someone to know she was with him. Stench wafted over her lips. Something was very close to her mouth. A loud crashing noise caused Rose's eyes to shoot open, and relief swam through her body as she saw the Doctor come through the door and head straight towards her. The man backed away, his face apologetic. Untied and upright again, Rose took the Doctor's outstretched hand and ran.

They ran for a long while. She felt her legs grow weak, but the adrenaline kept her moving. Her chest ached to stop and catch her breath, but the persistent tug on her hand propelled her forward. Rocks, tree stumps, hills, a couple of ropes, more rocks. They ran and ran, and when the TARDIS finally appeared before them, Rose could have laughed with relief.

Inside, Rose collapsed near the console. She was aware of the Doctor running about some more, flipping switches and sending them away somewhere, but she couldn't focus on him. Her body felt ragged, abused. Though the alien man had hardly touched her, hadn't hurt her in any physical way, she had been scared and threatened and worried. Finally safe, Rose's emotions poured from her eyes. Her body shook as she sobbed, her tears making her choke on air. She brought her knees up to her eyes as she sobbed. She could hear his alarmed footsteps, heard the noises he was making as he tried to figure out what was wrong. And then he stopped moving, stopped talking, and Rose was in his arms on the floor of the console room. He held her against his chest and rocked her gently, kissing the top of her hair now and then.

"Rose? Are you alright?" When he finally spoke, Rose's heaving body had relaxed. She felt fragile, weak, and not like talking. Rose pushed her face against his chest in response, and he seemed to accept that. When he carried her, Rose assumed he was going to deposit her in her own bed and leave her to sleep, so it was a surprise when she realized he had set her in his lap on the sofa in the library and was still rocking her gently, still kissing her head.

"Doctor?" She lifted her head and found his eyes. The Doctor's face was covered in anguish, and Rose felt pangs of guilt as she realized she was the reason for the pain. He didn't answer her, but instead pressed his lips to her cheek, to her eyelids, to her forehead. His hands slipped up her back and held her tightly as he covered her face in the softest kisses.

"Rose, I'm so sorry I put you in danger. Daft old alien, me. Should've never taken you there." The Doctor said the words between kisses, letting them settle into her skin like warmth after a chill.

"I was scared, tha's all. 'm sorry." As calmness floated into her bones, Rose felt silly for being so upset. She knew the Doctor was going to save her. Knew she was going to be okay in the end. But her body was wrecked with emotion: fear, anxiety, and then fatigue from the run. She'd let herself get carried away, and she was so sorry for it. "Doctor, 'm sorry."

"Hey, Rose Tyler, hush. I'm so glad you're here. And okay. And in m' arms." He gave her a weak smile and cuddled her head back against his chest, content with the feeling of her weight against him.

"It's just sometimes...sometimes I think this can't be it. I can't be 'bout to die in this strange place and th' man I love isn't even there. I thought I was 'bout to die, and so 'm layin' there tryin' to think of all the good things, and it's you, Doctor. You're what I think 'bout when I'm gonna die." More tears flowed down her cheeks, but they were quiet tears that pressed wetness into the Doctor's jumper. "And I find m'self wonderin' what'll happen to you. If you'll forget me and find someone else to travel with...and I think 'God I hope so.'" Rose sniffled quietly, and his hands stilled from their movements on her back.

"I could never forget you, Rose. Ever." His hearts pounded in his chest, beating loudly beneath Rose's cheek. "In all of time and space, it's Rose Tyler I'll be telling tales of. And...you were never about to die, Rose. I'd never let that happen." His voice cracked just a little.

"But I will die, eventually. No regenerations for me...is that why you can't be with me, Doctor? Because I'm going to die?" Rose didn't look up at him, didn't let her body betray her feelings by sniffling or sighing. She needed him to be honest, and now seemed like a good start.

"When you expire it will be because you have finally finished living a fantastic life, Rose. And not one moment before that." He took a breath. "I nev'r said I couldn't be with you. I'm here with you now. And I will be here with you as long as you want me to be."

"Forever?" Rose bit her lip. She felt like a selfish and foolish little child playing a game of make-believe. She thought about being six years old and terrified of dying, and her mum telling her that she was never ever going to die, and she would stay safe with Jackie forever. The irony was not lost on Rose. What was forever, anyway?

"Is that what you want, Rose? Forever?" His fingers clenched around her side, digging in to her hip with the intensity of the conversation.

"Yeah. I want to be with you, travelin' with you, forever." She breathed the words out and dared to look up at him. She expected a gentle lecture about what forever meant, about how long that actually was, about the ways it wouldn't work. Instead she found her lips captured between his.

His mouth moved over hers heatedly. His fingers released their tight hold on her hip and roamed her body, seeking the fiery feeling of her bare skin, pushing her dress up her leg, running his fingers back and forth from her hip to her knee. Rose moaned softly into his mouth, overjoyed to find him snogging her without her trying to talk him into it first. His tongue danced around hers, stroking her, coasting over her teeth, licking her lips before diving back in for more. His mouth had an urgency that Rose hadn't experienced before, and she ached with the feelings he was stirring in her.

Unwilling to move this further, unwilling to break the beautiful mood that had been set, Rose let the kiss continue until he broke away and found her eyes. He looked wild and unrefined, and Rose let her hand come up around his neck and stroke his head, his shoulder.

"I love you, my Doctor." Rose found herself uttering the words gently, as if she had no control over them. They were entities on their own that had to be spoken lest he forget.

"Rose..." He gulped, his breath hitched in his throat and his hands shaking.

"I know. I can see that you love me. One day you'll be able to say it, I know it." Rose put her head on his chest again, and the Doctor exhaled deeply. Rose Tyler understood everything he ever asked her to.

* * *

In a quilt shop in America picking something out for Jackie, Rose and the Doctor traced their fingers over the stitches in a pink and yellow patterned blanket.

"'s beautiful." Rose whispered.

"Aye." They stood there admiring the needlework, the colors, the circular designs.

"That's a wedding quilt. Traditional gift for newly married couples." The woman behind the register nodded at her words and winked, catching Rose's eye.

"Won't be needin' that one, then!" Rose smiled brightly and moved to another table.

"You never know." The Doctor's words were quiet, reserved, and spoken because he needed to hear himself say it, even if Rose didn't hear at all.

* * *

Dangling her feet in a pool, Rose giggled as the Doctor shucked off his boots and folded his gangly body down next to her, dipping his own feet into the chlorinated water.

"What's that?" He pointed to Rose's feet in the water, making a a strange face.

"Wha'?" Rose laughed, thoroughly enjoying their afternoon in the sun, even if they were only stolen moments in the middle of a bigger day, a more important adventure.

"Your...toes. What's that all ov'r 'em?"

"Nail polish, Doctor. Haven't you ever seen painted toe nails before?" Rose tossed her head back and giggled, delighted when the Doctor didn't know something.

"Of course. I just...I didn't know _your _toe nails were all pink like that." He motioned with his hand to bring her foot closer. Rose smiled and pulled her foot from the water, depositing it on the warm stone around the pool, her other foot still lazily moving about the water. He lifted her foot up and ran the pad of his thumb over her nail. "It's nice. Very Rose Tyler." He grinned at her, and Rose couldn't help smiling back.

He leaned in then, dropping her foot back into the water, and pressing his lips against Rose's surprised mouth. It was quick, chaste. "My Rose and her pretty toes." And then popped up again, fiddling with his boots, ready to move on to the next thing.

* * *

The Doctor sat in the jump seat, his eyes vacant. He stared at the walls of the TARDIS, absorbed the comforting thoughts she tried to send his way. Oh, he was so old. So very old, and so very tired. He rubbed his eyes wearily and sighed. The things he'd seen, the people he'd lost, the pain he'd felt. His body was new, but born of war, and he longed for a way to change. To be better, younger, more optimistic. He longed for his home, for his people, and to once again see the eyes of his family. The Doctor needed rest and meditation, maybe some time in his library with some books on Time Lord Laws, but he didn't have the hearts to do any of it. No, the Doctor could only sit and stare and surrender to the self-pity that swarmed around him like a fog.

In his youth he would have never considered taking a human as a lover. He would have scoffed at the idea and talked of the council and the laws and the morals. He would have laughed at how much longer he had to live compared to humans. He was such a child.

Today, though, the council was dead, the laws mostly moot, and he couldn't remember what was so immoral about it. He didn't have the hearts to laugh, really, and his life didn't seem like it had that many more years left than Rose's life.

Oh, sure, he might still live another hundred years, maybe two hundred if he was careful and stopped so much of the meddling (doubtful), but two hundred, tops. Even the Doctor had to die, he knew. And two hundred years without Rose was a painful thought, but it was nothing compared to the thought when he was only four hundred years old, or even five hundred. Back then he was still so sure of everything, still so confident that his way way the right way. But 900 years and a human that loved him more than she loved herself made him question if his way was rubbish.

Was his punishment for the Time War to be alone for the rest of his days? He used to think it was true, used to torture himself with the idea when he felt especially guilty, but Rose was a new era in the Doctor's life. Something good and beautiful and right. He wondered, not for the first time, if what he did was right. If the genocide of his people and the Daleks both was the right thing to do (he thought it was at the time, but there are so many questions after so many deaths), and maybe now instead of a punishment it was a reward that the universe was sending him. It was selfish and foolish and a little bit fanciful, but the Doctor allowed himself to consider it. He considered the idea that Rose Tyler was the only good thing in the entire rest of his existence, and it didn't seem so crazy.

The Doctor rose from the jump seat and walked around the console, fiddling with buttons and flipping levers as he went. His eyes scattered around the room, noting the changes since Rose. He smiled when he saw her jumper strung over a rail, another one of her bobby pins on the grating near by, and he even noticed a blonde hair floating in the room. He usually frowned on companions leaving their stuff about, that's why they had rooms after all, but it felt so comfortable to see her things about. The Doctor idly wondered what it would be like to see more of her things in more places...what would it be to live with Rose Tyler, really live, in a proper house? To see her cooking up breakfast and combing her hair? The Doctor felt old again, and like he had tears somewhere inside him that wanted to escape. Oh, to love Rose Tyler. To live with her, make love to her, believe in her. That was a life he could want, even a little bit, even if it made no sense and he knew he'd miss the stars and the galaxies and the danger... He needed her. It was clear.

He wandered the halls of the TARDIS and drummed on the side of his head. She was becoming his entire Time Lord life, and it was terrifying. He missed her all of the time, thought about her constantly, worried for her, and craved the feeling of her lips on his. The Doctor felt an overwhelming sensation of sadness as he approached her door. He wanted her so bloody much, but he'd come to no resolution. He didn't have the right to take away the rest of her life, and he wouldn't be true to either of them if he gave up the stars for her. Finding his hand on her doorknob, the Doctor pushed open with no pretense of knocking. They were passed that. They were passed so many things. Rose looked up from her journal. She seemed to be scribbling away, her lip caught between her teeth, but her mouth changing into a smile the moment she saw him.

"TARDIS all fixed up, then?" She asked brightly, her feet curled beneath her.

He came and stood before her, his body aching to touch her, his mind wallowing in anguish. "Yep." As he stood there, he realized that he had no idea what he was doing there. No idea what he wanted to say. He just came to her because that's what his body did, where his feet always took him, where his hearts ached to be.

"I was just writin' down about that last planet. I write it all down, ya know, so I don't forget." Rose closed the book and set it on her nightstand. She looked up at him expectantly. She was perfect. His Rose Tyler. Leaning down, he grasped her face roughly in his hands and kissed her. His teeth bumped into hers and she squeaked in surprise. Hardly able to control himself, he ripped at her top, shredding the fabric, roughly grabbing her breast in his hand.

"'ve never touched these. But they're mine." He squeezed hard and bit down her lower lip, the rage and conflict and misery and desire mixing and bubbling over.

"Doctor," Rose managed to get out between the assaults on her mouth. "Slow down, what's goin' on?"

"Want you," He made quick work of her shorts, undressing Rose Tyler in seconds. He could smell that she was affected, could see it in her pink cheeks and bedroom eyes, too.

"I want you, too, Doctor. But...shouldn't we talk? We always get into trouble when we don't talk."

Grunting in response, the Doctor moved his hand to examine her other breast. His fingers moved expertly over her sensitive flesh and squeezed her nipple, exactly the way he had watched her do to herself those times. Unable to resist, his head dipped down and caught her nipple in his mouth. He groaned in appreciation, and Rose tossed her head back in pleasure. She'd dreamed of this, wished for it, but she'd hardly been expecting it. In fact, she had come to put it out of her mind as a thing of her future, something she wasn't going to be getting any time soon. His mouth licking and biting her collarbone told another story, though.

Rose ran her fingers over his head, through his short hair. "Oh God, Doctor." She was curled around his body, but he still stood over her, manipulating her flesh while he stayed fully dressed and upright. "Come on," She reached for his belt buckle, but his hands shoved hers away. Locking eyes with her, the Doctor pushed her body down, laying her across the bed. He stood then and admired. He drank in the creamy color of her flesh and the bright red spots where his gruff cheek had rubbed against. He admired the swell of her breasts, and the way they managed to be so much fuller, so much larger than when he had only had his imagination to picture them. The Doctor's eyes appreciated her sex, smooth and glistening between those fantastic thighs.

"I can't fuck you, Rose. But...I want to. I want to so much." Rose could see the pain in his eyes, the way he warred with himself behind that stoic face.

"You don't hav't." Leaning up, Rose grabbed his hand and led it to her thighs, guiding him gently to her slick lips. He knelt on the bed then, his knees near hers as he moved his fingers over her, his body shaking with the feelings of 900 years and nine different lives coursing through him. He rubbed her clit a few times, watching intently as her face contorted with pleasure. Rose's timid hand came up then and cupped the bulge in his trousers. Groaning, he continued moving over her sensitive spot, experimenting between flicking it and rubbing. Rose responded to his touches with her own grasping and rubbings. When her fingers came to his belt buckle again, he didn't push her away.

He stood slowly and undressed in front of her. Rose's eyes stayed on him, filling herself up with the view of him. He pulled his jumper off and undid his trouser buttons, kicked at his boots. His eyes stayed on hers, intense and burning. When he stood nude, the Doctor found his place beside her on his knees again. His fingers returned to their place on her clitoris, and Rose tenderly took the Doctor in her hand. She rubbed slowly around his head, letting her thumb brush back and forth over the very tip. He moaned at that, and kept his eyes on hers. When his finger dipped inside her, Rose bucked her hips up and circled her hand into a fist, sliding up and down his length in time with his finger.

"More," It was a moan, a demand. The Doctor slid another finger inside her, and Rose ground herself into his palm, rotating her hips as she sought out her pleasure. She pumped more quickly around him, and the Doctor saw a dream-like glaze come over her eyes. She was so beautiful, his Rose. His cock pulsated with need, and Rose pumped him up and down, never wavering. Bringing his thumb upright, the Doctor rubbed that perfect place of Rose while grinding his two fingers deeper, recalling the route that brought her joy when he was using his mouth also.

Like last time, the Doctor found himself paralyzed with awe when Rose came around him. She bucked her hips upward and screamed out a strangled yell. Her walls felt tight and pulsing on his hand. Rose's hand stopped moving and just clutched on to him, holding his erection between her fingers. The Doctor kept his hand and fingers pressed where they were, unsure what he should do next.

When her body had recovered, Rose rolled away from him, letting go of his cock. She stood and came around the side of the bed, shocking the Doctor by dropping to her knees in front of him. He turned slightly, not sure what she was doing. Rose Tyler was constantly understanding him while he failed miserably to understand her. She leaned up then and took his cock again, rolling it between her sticky fingers. Licking him gently, Rose kept her eyes cast upward on him. He stared down in horror, but his cock responded. Rose licked up and down his shaft before bringing him to her chest. The Doctor grunted in pleasure, terrified pleasure, as she pushed her own breasts together and moved them over him.

"Rose," He choked out as his cock slipped between her beautiful breasts, the ones that now looked slightly bruised from his ministrations. Rose closed her eyes then and quickened the pace, him slipping back and forth, up and down, her breasts swallowing him and rubbing against him and _oh... _The Doctor's knees shook as Rose lowered her head and let her tongue dance across his tip as she pushed him upwards, fucking her breasts.

"I'm...Rose!" He didn't mean to shout, but he wanted to warn her this time. Wanted to save her that. But as his body seized up with pleasure and his head fell backwards, Rose leaned down and drank his seed up, swirling her tongue around the sensitive flesh, sliding her fingers up his thighs.

"You taste like time. I love it." She grinned at him like a cat, and the Doctor could only stare back at her, his body weak and old and full of some amazing feeling directed right at Rose Tyler.

"C'm 'ere, you." And he pulled her over to him, rolling them over, his knee landing between her legs, her ankle coming up and hooking over his waist. Planting kisses along her chest, Rose giggled and the Doctor murmured against her flesh.

"What're you sayin'?" Rose traced lazy circles on his neck.

He lifted his mouth from her swollen nipple and found her eyes. "I was just sayin' how I can't seem to get enough of you. How this time, I don't think I'll be getting' dressed again for quite a while. How I don't think I could live without ya." And his head dipped back down and found her rib, and he kissed her flesh again and again until they fell asleep, their bodies tangled.

* * *

**A/N: The response for this story has been so kind. I do hope that you'll let me know what you're thinking right now, and will come back for more soon. I've got a few more chapters in me, I think. xox Emmy **


	9. Chapter 9

When she woke, Rose was delighted to find the Doctor still in her bed, and even more delightful, he was still naked. His body was sprawled across the bed on her own body, his head on her chest, his legs wrapped around hers, his arms outstretched with one holding on to her hip and the other grasping her hand. She lay there and imagined that this was what it would be like after they finally made love. She pretended for a moment that he had said the words, had given consent, had made her his forever. And even though it was pretend, Rose felt an sense of calm. She had never felt so comfortable before in all her life, even if he was crushing her ribs slightly. Rose had never felt as confident, as sexy, as aroused as she did when the Doctor looked at her. He was madly eccentric, frequently intense beyond belief, but so full of love that Rose had a hard time accepting that he couldn't admit it. It was the most clear and right thing she had ever known: the Doctor loved her, loved Earth, loved and loved and loved but he didn't love himself enough to admit what he felt. Rose was starting to understand that the Doctor was full of too much guilt and sadness and confusion about what had happened in the Time War to feel like he was good enough to be giving love to people he thought so highly of. Rose was positive that she needed to help him see what she saw in him, help him heal.

Rose stirred gently, hesitant to upset the delicate balance of their first naked night together. She moved her hand over his bare back and hummed softly. When he didn't seem to respond at all, Rose raised one of her legs and wrapped it around the Doctor's waist and began tracing circles with her heel along the backs of his thighs. She was completely naked and wrapping her body around him, but he slept on. Part of her felt badly for trying to disturb his sleep when she knew he slept so little, but another part of her was aching to show him how much she loved him, make him feel the way she loved him.

Pulling out her final weapon, Rose began kissing the Doctor's cheek and neck gently, and, finally, taking that ridiculous ear of his between her teeth. The Doctor groaned lightly, still not moving. Rose sucked on the lobe of his ear, her fingers roving over the back of his neck. She tightened her hold on his waist with her leg, and breathed her mantra into his ear. "I love you."

Rose felt the Doctor's face turn into a grin against her chest. He shifted slightly, bringing his face to hers and Rose had to let go of his ear. She gave him her best smile, hoping and praying that he would be in a good mood.

"Good mornin', Doctor." His smile matched hers. He was happy. _Oh, he was happy! _Rose's heart sang with joy, and she untangled her other leg, wrapping it around his waist as well. He shifted, and suddenly Rose felt a very evident erection between her legs.

"Indeed it is. My Rose." He began to lift up and away, no doubt to find clothes and end this naked tryst, but Rose hooked her ankles and bit her lip, pleading with her eyes for him stay still. "Not tired of me yet?" He questioned, a half grin playing on those wonderful lips.

In answer, Rose brought her face as near his as she dared. Her nose touched his, her lips so close. She pressed her forehead forward to his and sighed, her own arousal beginning to wake up. "No way am I tired 'f you." And then she kissed him, kissed him properly with her tongue dancing across his lips, begging entry. He responded and Rose could have cried with joy, her heart on the defense and fully expecting him to pull away. Rose thrust her tongue into his mouth and moaned, his kiss so different this time. She wondered if it was because they were naked, or because he had just woken up and hadn't put his defenses up yet, but Rose felt his gentleness in that kiss. She felt him moving his lips in sync with hers, felt him wrapping his around her back (a sure sign he wasn't about to run, hallelujah!), felt his eyelashes dust her cheek as he closed his eyes and sunk into her mouth.

Damn her human body, Rose finally broke the kiss to let air into her starved lungs. She kept her face close to his, his mouth hovering over hers, his eyes apparently also fascinated with her lips. When he spoke, Rose was the slightest bit startled, as if she had forgotten his lips did other things besides snog the heavens out of her.

"I don't know if this is a good idea. I seem to have woken up with a...problem." He shifted his hips gently, his erection pressing firm into Rose's thigh. He spoke hesitantly, and Rose felt hope. Normally he would just pop up, walk away, go start the engines and wait for her to get dressed so they could adventure and what not. But he was looking at her so intensely, that questioning tone in his voice, and Rose knew he was asking her what they should do. He wanted her to say something, give input, instead of just deciding on his own. It was a huge step.

"We better take care of it. 've a problem of m'own, too." Rose gave him a sly smile while rubbing her hand along his jaw line, her fingers grazing over his lips.

He kissed her finger tips and spoke. "How?" Oh, nervous Doctor. No more fierce, intense, take-charge Doctor like last night, which was fine with Rose. Last night had been sexy and hot with the way that he ripped her clothes away and fucked her with his hand so roughly, but that wasn't him this morning, and that was okay. Rose loved her nervous, shy, petrified Doctor just as much.

Rose met her lips to his again, rubbing her tongue along his teeth, the roof of his mouth, his tongue. She felt him sigh into her mouth, and Rose allowed one of her hands to snake between their bodies, coming between them. Taking his cock in her hand, Rose rubbed him against her clit. The Doctor broke their mouths apart and looked at her with crazy eyes.

"I...Rose?" She could see him trusting her, but he was still afraid.

"'s okay. Promise." She stroked him again, sending a chill of pleasure down his body, and Rose watched as his eyes struggled to stay open. Her hand grasping him firmly, Rose pumped him fiercely, the top of his cock smacking against her clit, making her groan and nip at his lips.

The Doctor held himself up on his elbows, panting over Rose while she pleasured them both. He ached to just slip inside her, move their bodies as one, but Rose's hand made a convincing case of why it was okay that they didn't do that yet. He tried to focus on her eyes, on her mouth that kept capturing his lips and biting them, sucking on them. Gods, when did Rose Tyler become so sexy? His body felt flushed and tingling and desperate for release, but he also longed to make it last. Make Rose see he had some stamina. Stroke his own male pride a little. He rolled away from her and stilled her hand with his own, moving it away from his erection. Rose looked hurt, her big eyes confused.

"Make it last, ya?" He looked to her for confirmation, and when she nodded quickly, he found her breast with his mouth and began devouring it. He had no idea when he'd become a breast man, but the sight of Rose Tyler's pink nipples standing up, her breasts pushed together around his cock like last night...he'd never get enough of them. He ran in tongue in circles around her nipple as his hand gently kneaded the other, responding to the way that Rose mewed and sighed and squirmed around the bed. This was perfect, he was pretty sure. Giving Rose pleasure, her plump breast in his mouth, her hands clutching on to his body; this what was the Doctor wanted to spend the rest of his days doing, and that realization swept over him slowly.

He moved his mouth to her ribs then, licking the underside of her breast, his hand rippling up and down her side while he let himself sink into this happiness. Rose was moaning his name again and again, saying that she loved him, and the Doctor wanted to to tell. His mind sang the words and he nearly let them fly from his lips, but the sight of her hips bucking and shifting distracted him. He slid down her body and put his mouth on her inner thigh. Now wasn't the right time. She'd end up wondering if it was just the physical touch that made him say it, if he was just overcome with arousal and not thinking properly. No, when he told Rose Tyler that she was his absolute everything, he wanted her to have no doubt that he was serious and positive.

Rose raised her knees up, her eyes staring down at him between her legs. She looked sexy and demure at the same time, and the Doctor couldn't get enough of her face. Suddenly inspired, he moved back up her body quickly and rolled her on top of him, hugging her against him. Rose giggled and met his lips, kissing him and smiling at the same time, which was an absolute thing of beauty as far as he was concerned. Releasing her gently, Rose sat up, his erection pressing into her bum. She looked beautiful looking down at him like that, and the Doctor reached up to cup her breasts. She put her own hands over his large ones, and they stared at each other, delighting in the easiness of this, the sweetness of this, the love that was clearly flowing between them.

"Kiss me." He gave her a playful smile and raised his eyebrows. She began to lean down, but he stopped her, his hands coming down to her hips. "Kiss me," he repeated, his fingers now squeezing her bum, pushing her forward. Rose moved with his hands, her soaking vagina sliding up his chest. Rose straddled his chest and looked down at him.

"I can't bend quite like that, Doctor." She giggled, her arousal aching within her.

"Then let me kiss you." He brought his hands to her hips and lifted her, pulling her toward his face. Rose gasped as she caught on, her thighs trembling in that gorgeous way again.

"Are you sure?" She sounded so nervous, which made him smile. Rose Tyler was the ballsy one. She was the one always stripping her clothes off and grabbing at his cock. He covered his smiling lips with her hot lips.

Rose screamed out the second his tongue swept over her clitoris, her hands leaning forward towards the wall behind the bed. The Doctor closed his eyes and opened his mouth wide, his lips sucking on her clit while his tongue darted back and forth over her lips. Rose kept screaming, her voice high pitched and glorious, and his male pride soared as he realized that he was making Rose scream in pleasure. This was new, absolutely fantastically new.

The Doctor noticed when Rose leaned back, her hands falling behind her on to his chest. He watched attentively as her breasts jutted forward and his angle of access shifted slightly. The new angle gave him the amazing ability to dip his tongue inside her, and Rose shouted profanities at that, her hips suddenly rocking against his mouth. The Doctor had to focus to keep from smiling at that, keep his lips doing exactly what Rose seemed to want. He pushed his tongue around inside her, curling it a little and touching a spot he hadn't realized before but not suddenly knew he absolutely needed to lick. Rose shouted and came violently, her body going absolutely rigid and her juice suddenly pouring into his mouth.

He retracted his tongue and let it very gently rub against her lips until she was ready. Recovered, Rose scooted herself back to his chest before throwing herself down on the bed next to him. The Doctor wiped his lips with the back of his hand and smiled at her, amazed at the peace that covered her face. Her eyes were closed and her chest rose and fell heavily, trying to catch her breath. He rolled to his side and began nipping along her shoulder, pressing his now very, very hard cock into her hip. He watched in amazement as her face spread into a smile. She smiled for him. She came for him. She loved him. He was so aroused, but he felt so much tenderness all of a sudden. He wanted to cuddle her close and keep her locked away in the TARDIS with him forever.

Rose lolled her head to the side and looked at him sheepishly.

"Where in the bloody hell'd you learn that?"

He grinned and pressed himself into her hip again. "Instincts." He winked at her and kissed her shoulder again.

"Truly?" She quirked her eyebrow at him, skeptical that he hadn't done that before.

"Oh yes. Everything we've done, Rose. All instincts." He nuzzled her shoulder and then brought his face up higher, nuzzling his big nose into the crick of her neck.

Rose turned on to her side, bringing his face to hers. She put one hand on his chest and found his eyes. "Sorry, what? You said you had two lov'rs. I remember."

"Hmm? So?" He kissed her throat, running his tongue in little circles.

"So? So...sorry, do I 'ave to spell it out?" She cupped her hand under his chin and make him look at her. His erection pressed into her belly, throbbing slightly. Feeling sympathy, she brought her hand down then and grasped him roughly, not moving her hand, just cradling him while she waited for him to speak.

The Doctor sighed, his eyes suddenly tired looking. "Alright, let's hash this out, hmm? I shagged two people two different times. Once to make a child, which I did, which I do not want to talk about, and once after my wife was long gone and I was lonely and hurtin'." He stared at her intently, trying to not be distracted by her hot fingers around him. Rose looked shocked, her eyebrows knitted and her eyes bugged.

"'nd you never did any 'f that? Any 'f it?" Her voice was shrill.

"No! Rassilion, Rose Tyler, what'd I have to do to make you realize how different you are? Ev'ry single thing about you, about us, is different than anythin' I've ever done. Ever." He looked hurt then, and Rose bit her lip, sorry to have brought this up.

"Oh." She felt his erection begin to soften, but Rose was having none of that. She slipped down his body slowly, kissing his stomach as she went. The Doctor felt a little sad, a little possessive, a little confused about the conversation. He thought she realized all that, and the fact that he didn't bothered him. He didn't have much time to think about it though, because Rose Tyler was kissing his pubic bone, and his erection soared back to life. She rubbed her face along his length, and the Doctor quivered. He watched her in acute amazement as she opened her mouth and brought him in. She wrapped those hot lips around him, but the tip of his cock sat on her tongue, and she didn't move. The Doctor exercised extreme control and didn't move, not sure what she was doing. She cast her eyes upward and stared at him, his throbbing erection sitting against her tongue.

He wiggled his eyebrows at her, hesitant to ask her to continue because frankly, he was amazed she even wanted to and he was not about to ask something like that. Rose moved her head back and let go of him.

"Show me wha' you want, Doctor." Rose opened her mouth and this time didn't even touch him. She just lay there with her mouth open next to his penis. The Doctor moved experimentally, guiding himself to her lips. He really didn't want to let go, didn't want to have to do this, but she just waited and gods, he was so hard. He moved his hips a little, and her lips wrapped around him, but didn't do much else. She held his cock in her mouth and glanced up at him. Oh, he wanted to feel her lips moving back and forth, wanted to be completely sheathed by her sexy lips, wanted to fuck her mouth like she'd fucked his lips.

Overcome with want, with need, the Doctor moved his hips forward and pushed his cock the rest of the way into her mouth, bumping the back of her throat almost shyly. Rose closed her eyes and cupped his testicles with her hands, massaging them softly. The Doctor groaned in pleasure and bucked his hips, her mouth eagerly accepting him. She kept stroking his sack, kept letting her tongue slide against the underside of his cock. He pulled back and looked down at her. Her eyes were still closed, those delicate little eyelashes of hers against her cheek. He couldn't stand what he was doing. Couldn't bring himself to like the fact that he wanted to fuck her mouth, but he wanted to, and she apparently wanted him to. He moved his hips forward and slid against her tongue, to the back of her throat, and pulled back. She swallowed and brought one of her hands around behind him. She grasped his bum and squeezed harshly, and he found himself bucking against her mouth. A hiss escaped him.

Rose squeezed again, and he thrust into her mouth and back out. Rose kept up her squeezing, the Doctor finding a groove with her. He shoved his cock down her throat and pulled back all the way before slamming into her again. The pleasure was intense, deliciously wrong, and exciting. Rose began humming in the back of her throat, and the vibrations made him lose control. He thrust wildly, and her mouth accepted him, swallowing around his pulsing head before he pulled back each time.

He didn't warn her this time. What he was doing felt so wrong, so filthy, he couldn't speak. He slammed his hips back and forth, feeling her cheeks hit against his flesh as he fucked her mouth. He came violently, his body stopping with his cock pressed into the back of her throat. He felt her swallowing around him, drinking down his seed as she always had. Knackered and embarrassed, he rolled away from her and laid his arm across his eyes. He felt her crawling up his body, felt her coming up near his ear. He lay still, not wanting to look her in the eye after what he'd just done.

"Can't wait til you do tha' to m'pussy." Rose whispered in his ear before standing and walking away from the bed. The Doctor's arm flew away from his eyes and he gaped at her. She liked that? What? Rose looked at him over her shoulder as she stood in the middle of the room. "I could do that. All. Day. Long." She winked and walked off to the en suite, closing the door behind her, leaving him to lay and puzzle over how she could possibly be so sexy and filthy and fantastic all at once.

* * *

In New York City in Rose's present day, the Doctor and Rose strolled along a sidewalk and quizzed each other.

"Best place to get chips?" She looked at him pointedly.

"Ah, London! Something darin' you always wanted to do but haven't?" He swung their arm playfully between them.

"Get a tattoo!" She laughed.

"What? Really?" He stopped them from walking and looked at her. "Why would you want to scar up your pretty pink flesh?"

Rose laughed and bumped her shoulder against him, making them walk again. "Don't you think a butterfly would look adorable on m'shoulder?"

The Doctor gave her a confused look before answering. "No! I think butterflies look fine where they are, thank you. And your shoulder looks adorable without it." He leaned over and kissed her bare shoulder as they walked.

"'ave you ev'r had a tattoo? In all your bodies?"

"Nah...but, of all of them, I think this is the one that might." He nodded his head and gave her an intense look.

Rose chuckled and slapped his arm. "Oi! You can get one, but not me? 'sides, what would you get? A screwdriver? A police box?" She teased him, her smile huge and playful.

He pulled her against his body quickly and held her there. Rose gasped in surprise and looked up at him. He put his fingers under her chin and met her eyes. "A rose." And then his lips pressed against hers chastely before they started walking again, Rose blinking and grinning in shock and joy.

* * *

In the hallway of the TARDIS, Rose leaned up and kissed the Doctor on the cheek. She stroked his face fondly and turned to her bedroom door, ready to head to bed. The Doctor began walking towards his own room when he stopped and sprinted back to her doorway. Rose looked up in surprise from the pile of shorts she was digging through.

"You shouldn't be here." He looked gruff, and Rose nearly choked.

"What?" She couldn't believe it. Not after everything...no. She knew he loved her, even if he hadn't said it yet, even if they weren't ready for that. He wasn't really going to...

"In here. This room. You should...move your stuff on into mine." He crossed his arms and attempted to look cool and collected.

"Oh. You want me to share your bedroom?" She bit her lip.

"Right. Well. Do you want to?" His face was blank, his pride refusing to let him look hopeful or needy, though he was desperately both.

"Yeah. Okay." She shifted from one foot to another, feeling giddy and silly and special.

"Fantastic." His face split into a brilliant smile.

* * *

**A/N: Love you readers. You make my day. I hope you'll leave me your reviews or reactions, as they are the motivation I use when I need inspiration. More soon. xox Emmy **


	10. Chapter 10

The Doctor stood in the doorway to his room watching Rose unpack, a small smile playing on his lips. He crossed his arm and leaned against the wall, hardly able to believe this was happening. He was still shocked that he had asked to move into his room, not that he was opposed to it, but because it was absolutely against his character. This wanting to be around Rose Tyler ever waking moment of his life was new and strange and consuming, and even though he was thrilled that she was going to share his space and be there whenever he wanted in the night, he was terrified.

What was happening to him? Surely this wasn't just love? He knew he loved Rose now, he could admit that to his hearts and his mind, but was that the reason he found himself changing? The Doctor reflected on the differences in himself. He'd been making notes as he found them: smiling more, so so much more; forgetting to put his jacket on and adventuring in just his jumper; whistling while he piloted the TARDIS; the need to always know where Rose was at all times; the tightening in his chest when she told him she loved him; shaving his face to perfection, lest any stubble rub on her face when she snogged him, which was blissfully often; the small desire to tell her how he felt...

"Rose." He spoke from the doorway, and Rose looked up from the pile of clothing she was sorting. That face. Oh, he loved that face. "Can we talk?" He was pretty sure that was a line he'd heard someone say, was something he should say before he just assaulted her with his feelings.

Rose looked puzzled, but she nodded carefully and sat down on the bed. He knew that he should probably join her, probably hold her hand or something, but he stayed put. He crossed his arms tighter.

"Daft alien, me. Just wanted to...ask you some things." He nodded, sure this was going fine. That was a fine way to start. He didn't let himself dwell on her confused face. "Since I've never done this, you know that, told you that a dozen times now, but see I don't right study up on all this, so some things are still unclear. And since you're the human in this relationship, well, you might have some perspective and..." Rose held up her hand, and the sight of her little fingers completely distracted him.

"Doctor, you're babblin'. What's wrong?" Rose patted the bed, and the Doctor felt badly for not having sat down with her when he first thought it was the thing to do. Now she clearly felt slighted that he was standing in the doorway instead of there with her. Ah, he hated feeling like such a git. A novice. A fool.

He crossed the room and sat next to her, riffling through her bag nosily as he pushed it out of the way. Pink knickers. Hmm...

"Doctor?" Rose touched his arm, her face encouraging.

"Right. Well. What the bloody hell is happening to me?" There. Out there in the open, it was. Off his chest. Let her deal with it now.

"Sorry, wha'?" Rose knitted her brows and cocked her head.

He sighed heavily. He wanted her to just understand. She was usually so good at that. "Been noticing things about me that are...different. Ever since, well since we started snogging on the regular, I've been different. Things about me. Haven't you noticed?" It occurred to him that she might have been noticing but keeping it to herself, which made him terribly insecure.

"Different how?" Rose kept her face impassive, folding her legs up under herself.

"Crikey, Rose. I'm all...careless! Leavin' me jacket in the TARDIS when we go out, whistling like I'm some kind of bard, suddenly so concerned with my facial hair. Sleeping through the night!" the Doctor looked exhausted after the admission, running his large hand over his face quickly, daring to glance at Rose who was, to his horror, smirking! Smirking!

"Doctor, I think...I think you're just...happy?" She smiled fully then and moved her hand to his chest, attempting to comfort his obvious distress.

"What? That's rubbish!" He stood abruptly, his long legs pacing the room suddenly.

"Sorry? You're not happy?" Rose's face fell, her hands now folded unhappily in her lap.

"Hmm?" the Doctor's hands gripped his sides, his arms crossed protectively across his body as he paced. Rose didn't think she could stand to repeat her question, so she folding her knees up under her chin and waited. He needed to puzzle this out, and she was not in the mood to start arguing over this so-called problem.

He paced the room, spinning on his heel at each wall. He was only vaguely aware of Rose staring at him, of her sad little posture, of the way she was sighing. It occurred to him that he needed to answer her. That's the nice thing. He's got to work on that.

"Right, so you think I'm becomin' a totally different bloke because I'm..._happy?" _His lip curled in distrust as he asked her.

Realizing he was finally going to let her talk again, Rose sighed and began. "The things you said aren't a different person, Doctor. So you don't wear your leather jacket ev'ry place we go? So you sleep through the night? Sounds like a carefree, happy guy to me." Rose spoke evenly, aware that he was in a pretty delicate position, what with her having the upper hand and all.

The Doctor stopped pacing stared her down, his stare intense. "Carefree?" His voice was incredulous.

Rose decided to continue. "Yeah, carefree, a bit. You used to be so...uptight. And then you know, we started doin'...things. And now you feel better. Now you don't worry so much. Now you feel some happiness and the other stuff—like stayin' up all night to fret and puttin' your jacket on to protect your chest from me touching you—doesn't matt'r as much. Am I right?" Rose stood and crossed the room, stopping in front of him. She gingerly lifted her hands to his chest and pressed her palms over each heart.

"I..." The Doctor was speechless. Rose Tyler had rendered the Doctor speechless. God, he loved her. He had to tell her soon.

* * *

They unpacked the rest of her things together. He carried her perfumes to the dresser and sniffed each one before arranging them by color, then by his favorite smell, and the finally alphabetically by name, though that still felt a little dissatisfying. Shrugging, he turned and saw Rose hastily stuffing something back in the bag, taking great effort to cover it. Oh, Rose had something secret? He grinned like a small child as he quickly strode back across the room.

"Whatcha got there?" He lifted his eyebrows, his gaze clearly pointing to the bottom of her bag.

"Oh, you know, extra jimjams." She smiled and he could see, could always see, that she was fibbing. Badly.

"Tha' right?" He smiled bigger, loving a good challenge. Rose nodded and closed the bag, but he shot his hand out to it, keeping it open. "Well, unpack them. Plenty o' room in the drawer still." He nodded carelessly towards the dresser, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Rose stuttered a bit and went to carry the whole bag over, but he was having none of that. "Need the whole bag? Here, let me help?"

As he went to reach in, Rose screeched and smacked his hand away. "Ohh, what's my Rose hiding from me?" He loved playing with her like this. His face was wickedly happy, grinning at her as he lounged back on the bed, putting his hands behind his head.

"'s nothin'. Can't I 'ave any private things?" She challenged him.

"Aw, Rose. We're in a committed relationship aren't we? Don't I deserve to know what's in your overnight bag?"

Rose's heart soared. A committed relationship? When in the bloody hell did that happen? She couldn't help the shy smile that spread across her face. She cast her eyes down, afraid to let him see how much that had affected her. But he saw, oh, he always saw.

"That please ya, Rose? Hearin' me say that?" His smile dropped a little, his face intense all over again. Rose only nodded and fiddled with the zip on her bag. "Good. Pleased me, too!" His huge smile was back, but he still had that look of mischief, staring down her bag.

"Oh alright then! She shoved the bag at him and covered her face with a hand, embarrassment flooding her.

Eager, he sat up and reached in, tossing the silky shorts away. His smile dropped immediately. "Rose? Is that what I think it is?" Keeping her face covered, Rose nodded yes. "Honestly, your species is just obsessed with sex, isn't it? Have to fill all the minutes when you're not shagging someone with time to shag your devices!" But he kept staring.

"Oi! 's not like that, Doctor. 's...you know, I have needs. And you know right well that sometimes I take care of my needs m'self!" Turning to face him, Rose put her hands on her hips, feeling defensive about her toy.

"Didn't know you used...this! Thought those clever fingers did the job." Shrugging, he sat back against the pillows again and watched her.

"Oi, can't believe we're doin' this, but no. Not always they don't. Sometimes a lady needs to be...filled up!" Waving her arms in the air, she laughed at her own ridiculousness.

"Filled up?" His eyes looked huge.

"Yeah. It's a...need. But don't worry, 'm okay with us waitin'. Really, I am! That's why I 'ave that. Helps me be patient." Rose gave him half a smile, realizing this could very well hurt his feelings. Her poor, sensitive alien.

"I had no idea. Honestly." Cheeks slightly flushed, the Doctor's eyes wandered around the room as if he were contemplating something very, very important.

"What, really? Why would females want to shag at all if that weren't a feelin' we liked?" Rose decided to plunge ahead, despite how embarrassing and confusing this conversation was becoming. When he didn't respond, Rose sighed and continued. "Doctor, I'll get rid of it. 'm sorry, I can be patient without it."

The Doctor looked up quickly, his eyes dark. "Do you want help? Feeling full?"

When the Doctor saw Rose's jaw drop open, arousal surged through him. Nothing else in the entire universe seemed of any importance at that moment, only Rose's pleasure. Only giving her what she needed. Needed. She had said need. Not...desire, not...enjoyment. Need. He reached for the bag and extracted the sex toy, examining the thick plastic with a clinical eye. Rubbery, bright blue, not quite as large as him, but...still. The idea of Rose using this to fill a need that he had been neglecting...his trousers felt tight, but this wasn't about him. Rose sat shell-shocked as he put the toy on the nightstand and moved to Rose.

Their lips met cautiously. Rose looked afraid and nervous, her lips not moving against his the way he liked. "Rose?" He quirked an eyebrow at her. He was trying to start something, trying very hard to do right by her, and she was rejecting him? This was new. But his voice seemed to call to her, because she suddenly kissed him back, her arms winding around his neck. That was better. The Doctor guided her body down to the bed and gently moved over her, his lips sucking at her neck, her ear.

The way she moaned when he found her ear nearly sent him over the edge. Steeling his nerves, he moved his lips over her chest, pulling on her t-shirt, helping her out of her clothes piece by piece. When Rose reached for him, the Doctor stilled while he considered. This was for Rose, not him. But just his jumper...he shed his clothing for her, finding himself in his pants next to her. Rose attacked his lips then, her barely clad body pressing to his. The Doctor wrapped his arms around her back and found he very much enjoyed the feeling of snogging Rose Tyler in their undergarments in his bed. Yes, he liked it quite a lot. It made him..._happy. _

Moving his hands to her hips, the Doctor slipped a finger into her knickers and traced the line of her moist lips. Rose gasped into his mouth then, and he groaned in appreciation. Rose pushed her own knickers off, shucking them to the end of the bed, wrapping her arms around the Doctor's neck and deepening her kiss. This was it. She wanted to be full. The Doctor slipped his finger inside her and felt her quivering, felt her legs open widely as she rotated on to her back. He stayed on his side, hooking her earlobe between his teeth as he moved his finger within her. Remembering that she had asked for more once, he used another finger and thrust as much as he could.

Rose's mouth hung open as she moaned, and the Doctor ached to fill that mouth. He remembered the thing she had made him do last time with that mouth, the thing that had made him feel so repulsed and aroused and horrified and in love all at the same time. He tried to move hips away from her so that she didn't feel his erection pressing into her. When her hand came down and tried to grab him anyway, the Doctor caught her fingers and brought them to her own breasts.

"This is 'bout you, my Rose." he whispered the words against her ear, letting his tongue move to her neck. "You wanna be full, hmm? Oh Rose, I want to fill you. I want to so, so much." Rose panted in response, her hips grinding down on hand. The Doctor moved his hand away from her dripping lips then. "Touch your breasts for me." It was a command, and Rose eagerly complied, pulling her nipples out over her bra, rolling them between her fingers while she kept her eyes on him. Building his courage, the Doctor reached for the blue plastic device and brought it near her. Rose's eyes bulged, he saw that, but he sucked on her neck, pausing only to tell her all the filthy things that he suspected she needed to hear. "I'm going to use this on you, Rose. I'm going to fuck you with this, because it's what I can do right now. Tha' okay?"

Rose nodded furiously, her fingers massaging her plump breast. He raised up on his elbow then and moved the toy near her entrance. He leaned down to run his tongue over her nipple while he slid it inside her. Just a little at a time, he was sure that was how it was done. No need to rip her up, he thought. Was that even a thing? Oh Rassilion, he really needed to reread that book on human anatomy. Sliding it in a little more, the Doctor bit down on her nipple. Rose raised her knees up, and the Doctor found himself sitting up, his mouth kissing her raised knee while pushing the toy into her. He noted with curiosity that it was nearly all the way in her now and she seemed fine. No ripping, no sign of distress at all.

He pulled the toy back out and slid in again, this time pushing it all the way in. Rose screamed again, her nails digging into those beautiful breasts. He sat upright then, putting himself right between her legs so that he could better examine what was happening. He knew the basics of sex, but frankly, in the past he had just responded to what felt okay. He had never been quite so removed, watching something slide in and out of her like he wasn't even there. Suddenly very concerned and self-conscious that he wasn't doing it right, the Doctor looked up at Rose's face. "Show me."

Rose seemed to understand, bless her. Taking the toy in her hand, Rose thrust it in and out of her quickly. With her other hand, Rose guided the Doctor's hand to her clit, encouraging him to rub. Now this, this he remembered. This he had done for her many times. He let his thumb move over the nub as he watched her pounding the blue member into herself. Confident he was a master of this now, he took over for her, pumping furiously while rubbing her clit. Suddenly inspired, the Doctor leaned down and moved his lips over her, sucking on that wonderful little bud.

Her screams surprised him, as this time he didn't feel her coming. He didn't feel her quivering walls, but he did feel her hand digging into his head, pressing his mouth down hard against her. He continued pumping the toy into her, not sure if he was supposed to stop, but in no hurry to have her out of his mouth. When Rose's body seemed to calm down, he looked up from her to see that smile. Oh, that smile. That beautiful, thankful, sweet, loving smile.

"Thank you." She reached down and removed the toy herself, wrapping her arms around his neck as he came back up the bed. "I love you." She whispered, and he grinned. He could do this. He could fill her needs, sleep with her in his room, forget his jacket sometimes, whistle if he felt like, kiss her clitoris all day long if she wanted. Oh, he could do this.

"You have needs, too, Doctor." Rose rolled over his body and sat up, straddling his hips. She looked so sexy, her breasts hanging out the top her bra, her hair mussed from what he'd done to her. Oh, he loved when she looked like this.

"'m fine. Just wanted to take care 'f you." The Doctor grinned up at her, excitement at what she might be about to do fizzling below his skin. The woman always surprised him, always made him come harder than he thought possible, always filled his hearts with such love, which confused him greatly, but he was learning not to dwell on it while they did this sort of thing.

"Oh, no. You're gettin' off, mister. Believe me." Wiggling her hips, his erection pressed up in the cotton of his pants. The fabric was quickly becoming soaked, what with Rose's wetness sitting right on top of him.

"What'd you have in mind, my Rose?" He could tell she was affected by the sweet way he was talking. He was trying. It was deliberate. She gave him that special smile she had, the one he was pretty sure was only for him, and scooted back to pull him out of his pants. His erection throbbed in her hand, and she wasted no time rubbing it up and down with that perfect little fist.

And then, without any warning, Rose began talking. And not just talking, but.. _talking. _About filthy things. The Doctor felt his cock ache, possibly swell, hearing her say those things. "...wanted to do this so bad in my kitchen, 'member the first time you were in my kitchen? Just hardly met ya but oh, I wanted to touch you." Her fingers squeezed him and then continued their pumping. "'nd then that first time in the TARDIS? Oh I was so mad about you takin' me to see Earth die, but...but I just wanted to smack you and then shag you. Shag you right there for that Tree Lady and the Face of Boe and ev'ry one else to see, make them all see you were mine." Rose ran her thumb along the tip of his cock, and kept talking. "Oh Doctor, what you jus' did to me? Tha' was bloody brilliant. You sucking on me, eatin' me out while fucking me with my own toy? Oh Doctor, you made me come so, so hard."

He could hardly think. The Doctor blinked hard, trying to focus, but found himself distracted by her naughty words, her sexy breasts just sitting right there in front of him while she jerked him. Unable to resist, the Doctor reached out and grabbed one, squeezing and kneading as he stared at her little hand on his cock. "...love lookin' at it. Your cock is a thing of beauty, Doctor, I just love pumpin' it, milkin' it. Oh Doctor, come for me." And his body jerked, his teeth clenched tight. Her words sent him right over the edge, his cum spilling all over her hand, over his stomach.

When he opened his eyes, he was shocked to see a smiling Rose. She looked at him so full of love, and it made his head spin. It amazed him the way she seemed to love him, adore him even, when he'd just done something like this. He should really have more control than this. Should learn to resist her clever hands and mouth both, because all this did was confuse him. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, wanted to move them to the next place, but this was the kind of thing that still plagued him. He had no idea how love and sex fit together on this planet, because they seemed rather exclusive before, but Rose was just so adamant that they mix. And really, it did feel good. It felt amazing really, to love this girl and pleasure her both, pleasure her for the sake of giving her pleasure and nothing else.

* * *

"Oh, he's precious!" Rose lifted the small child to her face, nuzzling her nose against his cheek. She continued talking to the child's mother, nodding her head enthusiastically as the woman explained to Rose about the men who had been seen walking around the neighborhood. The Doctor tried to listen, really tried to focus on the problem at hand, but Rose with a child was distracting him more than he could understand.

Rose handed the baby back to the woman and turned to face him, her eyes clear and bright. "Well, what do you think of that?" And he knew that she was referring to the conversation, to the information they had just gathered, but he wanted her to be asking about the other thing so much, the baby thing, so he answered that thing instead.

"Grand. Just grand."

* * *

In a shop with beads hanging from the walls and a gypsy woman lighting candles just outside the door, Rose held a pink dress up against her body. She eyed herself in the mirror, turning her hips just so, the way the Doctor assumed she had done with all of the things in the wardrobe, too.

"Wha'd ya think?" She met the Doctor's eyes in the mirror, as he stood in his trousers and jumper—no jacket. He frowned and pretended to analyze the dress, his brow furrowed.

"I think you'd look better in white," he shrugged honestly and turned away, fiddling with the gems and jewelry on the counter top by the register, trying desperately not to see her reaction because he wasn't sure he was ready to see it, ready to know what she thought, only barely ready to test such a phrase on his lips.

* * *

**A/N: Well that was a filthy one, wasn't it? Yikes. ****Have I mentioned yet how much I adore you readers? My life's a mess right now, but I can't tell you how much joy I find talking with you all, hearing your reactions to this story. You're amazing. Please share your thoughts below, I'd love to hear. xox Emmy  
**


	11. Chapter 11

"I do love you," Rose spoke softly, her lips near his ear while he piloted the TARDIS. The ship shook and spun about, and Rose grasped his hips to steady herself. She didn't notice how tense his body was, that he was grunting and trying halfheartedly to shake her off of him. She didn't notice the expletives under his breath, or the panic in his eyes because she was busy clutching him, loving him, trying to stay upright...

"Rose! Get down!" And they crashed together, his body falling over hers, shielding her. Rose's head thumped against the grating twice, her mind suddenly swimming with haze and pain and fear. At her most basic level, on the floor under the Doctor with a pain sweeping through her back, her head, Rose realized something was wrong.

* * *

When she woke, Rose was on a sofa. No, a chaise lounge. No, what? In a house?

"Rose. How do you feel?" Her Doctor looked down at her, his face twisted and wrong looking. Pained. Worried. Sad.

"I'm...ouch. M'head hurts." He nodded at that and stroked her hand absently. He started rambling, filling her in on the odds and ends. Telling her about the crash, about the repair time the TARDIS needed, about the lonely countess that had offered them shelter. Rose tried to follow along, tried to nod her head, but found that hurt her head quite a bit. "So, we're stuck on the slow path for a bit?" She tried to smile at him, tried to ignore the headache that was clouding her vision just a bit. She expected him to smile back, to pat her hand again, but he only nodded, looking serious.

* * *

The bed was plush, silky, and completely over-sized for the two of them, but the countess had insisted it was the room her honored guests should share. Rose slept happily enough, her dreams of orange trees and chirping birds clouding over her like a shroud. The Doctor slipped from the bed, unease deep in his core. He walked the old carpets, let his fingers trail over the mahogany tabletops in the hallways, stared into the eyes of the people in the paintings.

When he found himself in the gardens, he allowed himself to sigh heavily and look up at the moon. He'd been looking at Earth's moon every night for four days and it still seemed so wrong. It hung in the sky in a way that he couldn't find himself appreciating, and the stars around it seemed too small, too far away for him. Hands thrust in the pockets of his trousers, the Doctor walked on further, the night air brisk and cool in his lungs, the dirt beneath his boots moist and springy. The more he walked, the darker his mood became. The fault wasn't hers, he was positive of that. She was completely innocent in his unhappiness.

And that's what it was, wasn't it? Unhappiness. Rose had just been telling him about how he was _happy_ only...what? Three weeks ago? And now here he was, seeped in such a painful unhappiness that he found himself forcing his smiles, watching her from the corner of his eye, looking for some words or phrases or manuscripts that he could use to tell her what was happening to him. But he couldn't quite tell her if he wasn't sure himself. A nagging, festering feeling tugging at his subconscious, begging him to go further into space, into time. Away. Always away.

His boots covered in mud, the Doctor retreated back into the grand home, aware that Rose would be waking soon and looking for him, her doe eyes seeking information from him that he didn't think he could give her. He wanted so badly to be happy again. Get that feeling back that Rose had showed him, but... But what? But he was afraid? But he was feeling guilty? But he was feeling rushed? Excuses. There had to be something deeper, more meaningful causing all this.

He sat on the edge of the bed and removed his boots, slowly laying his body back down so that Rose would find him when she inevitably awoke. And she did. Her fingers found the lapels of his jacket and her eyes shot open, questions burning behind her eyes. He could see her confusion, could see the worry in those little creases he noticed on her forehead. She'd been looking at him that way every morning, dying to ask him why he was wearing his jacket in bed, why his skin was so cold when the room was toasty, why he wasn't sleeping anymore. But, bless her, Rose just closed her eyes again and didn't ask him.

Part of him begged her to ask. Something inside him wanted desperately for someone to notice what was happening to him, but he warred with himself. He didn't want to say it to her. He didn't want to transfer that pain into her. He closed his eyes and evened his breathing, forcing his body to relax and be what Rose needed. A warm body next to her. A man.

* * *

Rose carried the arm full of flowers through the house looking for a vase. She poked her head into a cabinet, stood on her tiptoes and looked on top of the cooler, but she found nothing. She looked down at the flowers and smiled. She loved the smell of daisies and lilies and rosemary, and she breathed the fragrances deep into her lungs.

When the Doctor entered, she tried to keep her attention on the flowers. She couldn't look at him, not right then. She knew he'd been leaving her in the nights, but she had no idea what he was doing while he was gone. No idea why he was leaving in the first place. The distance between them grew slowly at first.

On the first day stuck on the estate, Rose kissed him and held his hand and rested her head against his shoulder while they walked. On the second day, Rose looked for his hand while they hiked to the town, but came up disappointed. He'd thrust his hands into his trousers, avoiding her touch. On the third day she had tried to guide his hand up her chest while she pressed her lips into his, finding themselves in a hallway alone, but he'd pulled away from her, left her lips cold as he gave her a bit of a shrug and headed down the hall alone. On the fourth day, Rose let her imagination run away with her. She laid in bed long after he'd gone from the room, doing whatever it was he was going to do that day, and imagined what was wrong.

Maybe he missed the TARDIS. Maybe he missed the adventures. But were those enough reasons to pull away from her? After all, they had a plan. They'd be leaving soon enough, weren't stuck there for the rest of their lives or anything. Maybe he'd changed his mind...about her, about them, about everything. No matter how many times he had reassured her, Rose always held on to the suspicion that he might not love her the way he needed himself to. The way that she loved him, and the way she felt sure he loved her...well, that was okay with her. She could live with that, she didn't need him to go any further if he couldn't. But, she reasoned, he clearly wasn't okay with it.

He stepped tentatively into the room, careful not to look at her. Something terrible spoke to his hearts, telling him he wouldn't be able to stand the sight of her with flowers in her hands like that, with the sunshine on her golden hair from the window, with her cheeks glimmering just a bit from the tear he knew she'd shed a little while ago.

She spoke first, breaking the silence that seemed to stretch between them like a thread from her heart to his two.

"What're you up to today?" She turned her back to him, hoping that having his broad shoulders and strong jaw out of her vision would help her be brave. She needed to be brave. Needed to deal with this. Needed courage that bubbled inside her like a sickness.

"Just...you know. Nothing." She could hear him shift, imagined that his head was in his hands. His voice sounded resigned, unhappy.

"TARDIS'll be doin' alright soon enough, ya?"

"Oh, sure. Yeah. Right." She heard him drum his fingers on the table. Was he irritated with her? Rose suddenly felt so insecure. He was just humoring her, letting her prattle on like a dumb little human while he struggled with complicated things that he didn't even want to explain to her anymore. FOUR DAYS! It had only been four days and he was treating her like he hardly even liked her. Rose set the flowers on the counter top and turned, determined to face this.

"Doctor, what is it? What's going on with...us?" Seconds passed and the Doctor didn't move, just stared at the table. Rose counted to thirty, then fifty, then one hundred. She opened her mouth then, unsure about what to say, but unwilling to let him just ignore her, the problem, when he spoke.

"Rose, I don't know."

"Wha...you don't know what's going on between us?" She stumbled forward and sat at the table across from him, her eyes locked on his fingers. Those fingers that had done such incredible things to her. Those fingers that made love to her skin.

"I don't feel right here. We don't feel right here." He looked up at her and Rose tore her eyes from his hands and met his gaze. The sadness, the pain in his eyes took her by surprise. She'd seen the fake smiles, but somehow she wasn't prepared for what he'd look like when he stopped faking. "I was feeling sure, positive, ready, ya know? And then here. The slow path. Ground and sky and moon all the same every day. Rose..do you understand?"

"I know tha' we'll be in the TARDIS again soon, we're not stuck here forever, Doctor."

"Oh Rose. No, we're not. But...but I'm looking at you and I'm noticing things here. I'm seeing you age right before my eyes. I'm seeing you look at me with disappointment in those eyes." He stopped and ran his hand over his head, trying to push the emotion out of his voice.

"You...I'm aging? You're upset because I'm aging? 've always been aging! So 'ave you!" Rose reached her hand out to his, grasping his fingers, desperate to make him see that it was still her. She was still Rose. His Rose.

But it wasn't just that. He knew she'd always been aging, knew that he'd notice eventually, but this was so real, so in his face. And the way she had just fallen into this life, enjoyed walking the gardens and picking flowers and cooking and making beds and chatting by the fireplace... The Doctor found himself wondering if she belonged in this kind of life. He'd thought she was meant for the stars, like him, but...

"Don't you love it here, Rose? It seems like you love it here." He couldn't look at her again, studied the oval of her fingernail.

"Doctor, you're jumpin' all over the place. So what if I like this estate, the countess, wha's that to do with me aging?"

"You're so human. Time Lord, me. I can forget it most of the time, but here, my Rose Tyler fits in like a human and I wonder if I'm not supposed to be stealing you away from all that. If you're supposed to be here." There. Out there in the open. He pressed his boots into the floor, resisting his urge to run.

Rose stared at him, hurt evident on her face. "I am human, Doctor. Can't change that. But I made my choice. I love you. I choose you, ev'ry time." Drawing on the courage she barely knew she still had, Rose stood and crossed around the table, sitting down in his lap, forcing his attention to find her. He couldn't look at her, couldn't bare it, but his forehead pressed into her side, his fingers gripped her hip. "I thought we were passed all this, yeah?" She sighed, pressed her cheek down to the top of his head.

"I did, too." And his honesty hurts her, makes her feel like running, makes her want to curl up like a child and sob. Will it always come back, then? Will he always be thinking about this, always be about to change his mind? And worse, can she live with that? Can she live her life with a man who is always on the verge of regretting her?

"Doctor...Oh, my Doctor. Please." She lets her tears flow, wetting his hair, not caring.

"What, Rose?" he shifts her around, pushing his face into her collarbone, rubbing his nose along the bone.

"Just. I jus' want you to feel the same as me. I can't go on if you're gonna change your mind ev'ry time we sit still for a day or two." Her chest shook with tears, his face flush against her vibrating. "I thought we were good, Doctor. I really did."

"Just say it, Rose. Tell me and I'll take you home." He closed his eyes, let the feel of her skin on his face be the feeling her would remember forever.

"I don't want to, Doctor! I don't want you to take me home. I want you to stop wantin' to take me home!"

"I...I don't want to." He sighed into her skin, willing his mouth to fix this. Desperate to make his brain and his mouth and his hearts act like one cohesive unit for once in their bloody existence. "I nev'r want to let go of you. But...but it hurts, Rose. Lovin' you this much hurts like I nev'r knew it would."

Those words, out there, sort of. And then they were crying, two tears sliding down his cheek while Rose shook with abandon. "'m afraid of you dyin'. 'm afraid of you getting tired o' me and the stars and we won't be enough fo' you. And it hurts that you'll grow old without me." The words were a sad revery, a hopeless plea that they'd both thought a hundred times but had never been heard aloud til now. She wanted to comfort him, to tell him she'd never tire of him or the stars and that she would always feel young with him loving her, but she couldn't make words through her emotions, and settled for clutching at his neck desperately.

He carried her then, through the kitchen, up the stairs, down that hallway, into the room they were sharing. Into the bed he found himself leaving so often. Off with shoes, off with jackets, arms around each other. Facing each other in the bed, the Doctor moved his hand sadly over her wet cheeks, wiping the salty substance away and hoping with all that he could that she would speak soon. Until he came clean, admitted what was poisoning him, he didn't realize how much he needed her to comfort him. The Doctor, the Oncoming Storm, needed his human girl to soothe his worries.

"Tell me 'm wrong." He whispered against her nose, kissing it lightly before moving his forehead against hers. Rose clutched at his hips, pulled him closer.

"You're so wrong, Doctor," she sniffed.

"Ah, you love to say that, don't ya?" He smiled a small smile for her, moving his face again, desperate to feel her eyelashes brush his cheek.

"I love you. I love you, love you, love you." The words were small and quiet, but she said them anyway, willing them into his head, his hearts. Rose moved her body down, pressing her lips against his chest and repeated. "I love you, Doctor," and then to other side, again. "I love you, Doctor."

* * *

Cross legged on the bed, their bed, in their room, Rose waited. He'd come in eventually, he always did. Since moving in to his room, she'd spent many nights alone while he did whatever he needed, but he always came in eventually. Usually he came when he thought she was asleep and sat on the bed next to her back, stroked her hair and hummed.

Rose fiddled with the blanket between her fingers, the textile rough and scratchy and so very _Doctor_. The TARDIS had been fixed on the fifth day, and they'd thanked their hostess and made their departure, walking hand in hand down her cobblestone. She'd gone to the bedroom and he'd stayed in the console room, still uneasy, still broken somehow. Rose didn't have the right words anymore. She confessed her love again and again, tried to show him with her mouth, but he resisted. He still fought with himself, conflicted, pained. He wouldn't be her Doctor if he didn't seem broken, would he?

His footsteps were feather light, she knew he was trying to be quiet. He expected her to be asleep, he expected to be able to come seek her comfort without actually having to face her, and the surprise was there on his face when he found her sitting up.

"Still awake, eh?" He shrugged his jacket off, lingered near the dresser. Rearranged the line of perfumes again, this time by size of the bottle. Rose didn't speak, just waited for him. He turned then and thrust his hands into his pockets, looking like a guilty man, a sad man, a man. "Guess you're wonderin' what happens now, yeah?" He raised his eyebrows, trying to read her, trying to guess at her feelings. He was rubbish at this.

"I know what happens now, Doctor. We keep on livin', enjoyin' each other, helpin' people, or aliens, or whatever. We just keep goin', Doctor."

He had to give it to Rose Tyler. He thought she was waiting up for some long speech, another night of tears and commitments and admissions, but she was checking on him. She was waiting up because she was worried about him, not herself.

"Yeah, that sounds good." He smiled at her, and she quirked her eyebrow, patted the bed. The Doctor strode towards her, anxious now to have her in his arms, let his lips tell her what he wanted her to know. When he sat down, Rose popped up off the bed, immediately straddling him, her knees around his hips.

"Feelin' feisty, Rose?" He chucked lightly, and Rose answered him with a bite to his ear, a nip on his neck.

"'m thankful for you, ya know? I know you worry about things, always frettin' over somethin', but you gotta understand, Doctor." She kissed his Adam's apple, licked the prickly flesh under his chin. "I'm here. Not goin' anywhere." A bite to his lower lip, a kiss under his eye. "In all of time and space, I'm gonna be your constant, Doctor." Sucking on his upper lip, nails in his shoulder. "Always. Here. Always. Lovin'. You." She punctuated each word with a grind of her hips and a scrape of her teeth against his mouth.

His hands found her hips, pressed down on her, willing her to rub against his rising erection. Oh, he needed her. Five days stuck in one place, looking at the same stars, fighting with himself, worrying about her, looking at her slightly wrinkled forehead. He needed her so much. Rose lifted herself up then, stood in front of him and pulled on his jumper. He shed it quickly. Rose loosened his belt, undid his button, and he sat attentive, his lips aching to touch hers again.

Rose put her hands on her hips and slowly brought them up her body, running along her own ribs, her thin tank hitching up as she did so. He reached out for her, but Rose batted his hand away and turned her back to him. Sticking her bum out, Rose sat down against the Doctor's lap and moved herself seductively, rubbing against the bulging fabric of his trousers. The Doctor groaned and tried to put his hands on her hips, but she smacked them away again. She ground her hips down, rubbing right into him, her head tossed back against his shoulder. Seeing an opening, the Doctor moved his lips over her exposed throat, murmuring against it.

"My Rose."

"My Doctor." But then she's standing again, her back still to him, and she's pushing her soft pants down her hips, over her bum. She wiggled her behind a little, and the Doctor resists the urge to reach out and squeeze. Rose bent over, touching her toes as she gives the Doctor a little show, smiling as she hears his groan. Standing back up, Rose steps out of the pants and hooks her fingers in the black elastic of her knickers, shimmies her hips as she teases him, bringing them down ever so slowly.

"Rose..." He groans, and she hears him messing with his belt buckle, trying to finish undoing his pants.

"Take them off me." She speaks over her shoulder, looking at him. She sees the surprise in his eyes, the need. He reaches forward and covers her hands with his, slowly pushing them down, uncovering her flesh for him. When they are around her ankles, the Doctor brought his hands back up to her behind, gently cups her cheek. Rose sits back down on his lap, rubbing her now naked bum against him, letting him grip her hips and grind into his erection.

Standing up, Rose turned to face him, pulling her tank over her head, letting her breasts be bare to him. He groans again, and Rose nods at his pants, encouraging him to get them off. With renewed ambition, he quickly discards of them, his cock large and throbbing in his lap. Naked before him, Rose swayed her hips and runs her hands up and down her body, her nails leaving little red lines. Taking himself in his hand, the Doctor waits for her. He needs her to tell him what to do. Tell him how to keep this going. Rose understands. She always understands.

Coming towards him, Rose lifted her leg up, bending her knee, setting her foot on the bed next to the Doctor's thigh. She finds her hands on his shoulder and his eyes meet hers, though she can tell they desperately want to examine what she's showing him.

"Touch me." And he does, oh, he does. With one hand still wrapped around himself, the Doctor lets his other stroke her gently, rubbing that spot he loves, that she loves. Rose moans and the Doctor wants her to touch him, wants her hand to be the one wrapped around his cock, but he can't ask. Can't say it. She's in charge here, and he wants her to want it, to do it herself. He strokes himself and shoves two fingers roughly inside her, Rose's hips immediately grinding down to his palm. He leans forward and kisses her stomach, her navel. And then she's lowering herself down, her knees around his hips again, his cock pressing into her behind as she attacks his mouth. He keeps his arm around her, still pumping himself as she moves her hips gently, adding the rubbing of her behind to his ministrations.

The Doctor doesn't know what comes over him when he lifts her hips up and brings his erection to the front, the tip coasting over her opening as she hovers there. And he doesn't stop her when she lowers herself back down, the tip of his cock slick with her wetness, her thighs quivering as they hold her there in that delicate balance above him. He slid his hands up her back and then down, cupping her behind, and, resisting every urge in his body, slips his fingers back inside her and pumps hard, her hips bucking backwards to meet his hand, his cock throbbing as she moans and screams and then comes right over him.

Unable to resist any longer, the Doctor grabbed his cock and pounds his fist around himself, his body no longer his to control. Rose slips from his lap to her knees, sits in front of him with her hands on his thighs and watched, his cock slippery from her and so close to her face. He stares at her as he jerks, looks at those lips, those breasts, and pumps harder. With his free hand, the Doctor reaches out and threads his hand in her hair. And when he comes spurting everywhere, Rose only smiles.

His Rose. Smiling at something like that. Loving him despite the royal arse he's been. His Rose Tyler.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you to each of you who have been reviewing. You're bright, happy spots in a pretty miserable week. And to my 'Guest' who always leaves such wonderful and kind words (you know who you are), thank you. I wish you'd consider getting an account so I could thank you properly. **

**More soon. xox Emmy **


	12. Chapter 12

"Rose Tyler, you really are a wild thing, aren't you?" the Doctor chuckled, watching Rose's blouse get soaked, the water covering her from head to toe. Seeing the sprinklers, Rose had laughed and let go of his hand—he hated when she did that—and ran into the water, frolicking with abandon he had no idea how to replicate.

"Fun! Remember, Doctor, fun!" She spun around, and he realized her black shorts were rather soaked, rather clingy. In fact, everything was clinging to Rose now that she was drenched, and even though he was in public, which is a very strict rule, he noticed the curve of her bum, her spine, the swell of her breasts, and it was rather delightful. Seeing Rose covered in water, her clothing clinging in that delicious way...it was enough that the Doctor found himself shifting his trousers very discreetly, plunging his hands into his pockets, trying to hide what was happening.

When Rose emerged from her little run about the wet grass, she barreled into him, grabbed him by the neck, and snogged him. Right there in public. Not a chaste, sweet meeting of the lips because they were feeling vulnerable or happy, but an actual full body snog. Her wet body pressed into his dry clothes, and oh, it was in public, but he wrapped his arms around her anyway. He kissed her in return, trying to embrace the abandon that Rose possessed. And even though his mind nagged that they needed to get her dried off in case she caught a cold, and he needed to tinker with some things on the TARDIS, and he needed to look something up, which is what they were on their way to do when the water distracted her, even though he couldn't keep his mind on Rose, his body had no problem staying on Rose.

"Wow, nice job, Gramps."

A passing comment. Not worth the trouble, really. Ignorant, nothing to do with them, shouldn't let it bother him, or her, or them, but oh...it did. It bothered him right to the core.

"I know!" The Doctor shouted at the pedestrian, a smug smile on his face. He even raised his eyebrows, dared the person to further insinuate something. The person kept walking, laughing to themselves, clearly amused by their own rudeness. But the Doctor's hand gripped her hip, pressed her close to him, their love on display even though he hated that.

"Doctor, forget him." Rose tried to distract him by pulling his arm towards their destination, just around the corner. Just get back to the TARDIS. Their hands tangled, and the Doctor let her pull him. Let his human girl pull his 900 year old self back to their spaceship. The thought was absurd, until he got to that last part. Their spaceship. Their TARDIS. He'd never thought of the TARDIS belonging to anyone but him, but he had to admit that Rose had certainly fit her way into the ship's heart. Into his hearts.

At the console, he tried to busy himself with the soil sample he'd collected, wanted to get those tests running, keep his mind busy, the usual Time Lord avoidance techniques. The Doctor was so focused on not focusing on her, that he almost didn't hear her when she spoke.

"Stop it." Rose Tyler had her arms crossed. _Oh. _Meeting her eyes, the Doctor realized that he was messing up. Doing something wrong, though he wasn't positive what was bothering her now.

"Sorry?"

"You're brooding. You're cross! Ov'r what some moron said. Stop it." She gave him her look, the one he was pretty sure she had picked up from Jackie, the one that he hated. The Doctor sighed and went back to his soil. Soil he could understand. He could taste it and know the chemical makeup, predict the way it would behave. He'd tasted Rose Tyler dozens of times now, and had no idea what she was made of (grit, vanilla, and passion so far), and he was useless at predicting her.

"Ya know, you waste so much time like this. Feelin' bad, frettin'. How 'bout enjoyin' the time we got, Doctor?" She gave him a sad shrug, her face so young and sweet.

"Rose, I'm not fretting about what that fool said. He only implied that I am old enough to be Jackie's father and that I had no right to be snogging you, nothing to take offense to." He smiled through his teeth and jabbed buttons on the console angrily.

"Why do you care? You nev'r care! You're insulted, underestimated, spoken rudely to all the time. Why are ya all worked up now?"

"Because usually the insults and rudeness have nothing to do with you. Or our relationship." He didn't look at her, but he knew she was coming. She crossed the floor and put her arms around his waist, rested her head against his back. And it wasn't until then he realized how much tension he was holding between his shoulder blades and allowed himself to take a deep breath, calm down.

"I look young now, Doctor, but I won't forever. Some day you'll look like you picked me up at a singles mixer for divorced middle aged women, and aliens'll raise their eyebrow-like-things at you and wonder where ya picked me up, or worse, why you picked me up. Gotta get used to it. We're not...traditional lookin'." Rose spoke into his back, and he heard her wisdom. Knew that she was right (to a point) that he only looked so much older than her right now. He might regenerate and look much younger or she might...do what she said and end up aging.

"You'll always be beautiful, Rose. Always. You'll always be my beautiful Rose."

"I hope you always think that, Doctor." He could hear the hint of sadness in her voice, and it made a sadness creep into his own mind. He'd done nothing to assure her of this. In fact, he'd pretty much made it clear he couldn't handle her aging at all, but he was working on it. He'd always think she was beautiful, that had nothing to do with her aging. It's the getting closer to dying part that tormented him, made him afraid to look at her.

"I will, Rose." He needed her to believe him. "But, can ya live with it, Rose? Me lookin' like this big daft old man?" He dropped his head, holding himself up on his arms as Rose pressed into his back.

"I love you, Doctor. Love your face, no matt'r what it looks like."

"But don't ya wish I was handsome?" He wished he hadn't asked, but he did, and he was desperate to know what she'd say.

"You are handsome, my Doctor. The most handsome, gorgeous, sexy man that's ever snogged me." Rose hoped he could feel her smile into his back through the leather. Her words were honey, coating him in acceptances, coaxing him back to his happy place. The happy place where Rose was his and he could pretend they were the only ones in the universe. When he turned to face her, a guffaw escaped his mouth at his own stupidity.

"You're all wet! You're goin' to catch your death! How did I forget that you were all wet?" The Doctor screeched, and wasted no time scooping her up, tossing her over his shoulder. "You need a warm shower, and some warm clothes, and a warm fire. How's about a fire? TARDIS'll rig one up for us, I mean, for you, in the library." He playfully patted her bum as he carried her, and Rose giggled like a school girl.

"No! None of that!"

"What? Rose, don't be silly." He rounded a corner, finding himself in their bathroom.

"None of that, 'less it's with you." Standing upright, Rose reached up and pressed her lips to his, finishing the kiss that they had begun out by the grass.

"With me? You want me to...?" He looked terribly afraid, and Rose grinned at him and began undressing. She peeled her wet blouse off, started shimmying out of her black shorts. The Doctor stood frozen in front of her, not sure he could handle what she was suggesting. He'd wanted to do this before—every single time she had showered in the TARDIS the Doctor wished he could be there, but it was a line he was sure he didn't have the strength not to cross. Seeing Rose all wet running about in those sprinklers had nearly made him lose, and he wasn't sure he could resist her all wet _and _naked.

When Rose finished undressing herself, she turned and fiddled with the faucets in the shower. She bent slightly, and the Doctor heard himself growl at the view. Against his own better judgment, the Doctor slipped his jacket and jumper off, and rested his hands on his belt while he stared at Rose's behind.

"Doctor...come enjoy this. Enjoy the time we have, ya?" Rose spoke softly, stepping towards him and unclasping his belt for him, looking up at him with her tongue in her teeth. Smiling that smile. The smile for him.

"I do enjoy this. Enjoy you. Every moment." He ran his fingers through her hair while she undid his trousers, his eyes sweeping over her sweet face. Oh, he ached to tell her right then. Her hair wet from the sprinklers, her body nude and so close to his, her face serious and sexy and loving. He wanted to tell her. But...he was waiting. Waiting for the right time. And he had no idea what that right time would be, and why wasn't it right then? The Doctor's brows knitted as he tried to decide. What made right then, with Rose kissing his chest and shoving on his pants, not the right moment? Maybe it was the perfect moment.

"Rose." His voice was gruff, and he wanted it to be smooth, more in control, but he had the worst feeling that tears were going to bubble up and betray the moment. But she just smiled, his clothes finally gone, and turned away. Rose stepped into the shower, steam clouding the room, and poked her head around the curtain.

The moment was gone. Another would come, he was sure. He'd tell her, he would, even if he was a coward. Maybe he'd take her to the Applegrass, or to watch a supernova, or maybe just a nice picnic back in London. He'd figure it out. Big Time Lord brain, him, he'd figure it out. His legs feelings weak beneath him, the Doctor crossed the room and carefully stepped in with her.

In the shower, the water sounded so loud. It pounded on her body, droplets sliding down her back, and his eyes hooked on to one drop as it traveled from her shoulders, down her spine, over her bum. The Doctor couldn't find the courage to touch her, couldn't bring trust himself to not take her right then, spill all his secrets into the steam.

Rose stepped backwards, her back pressing into his chest, bringing him under the water with her. His erection pressed against her back, and the Doctor worried it was too much contact, but then she had her hands on his, bringing them up her body, and the Doctor let his breath out and melted into her touch. He needed this. Needed her. Oh, he needed Rose Tyler so much.

He ran his hands along her stomach, pressed his fingertips into her soft, still chilled flesh. Moving his head down, he rested his chin against her shoulder, let his lips press into her ear, let his erection press hard into her back. Let her know. He wished she could just know. Just know because of the way he touched her, just feel it in the way he kissed her. Rose arched her back under his touch and moaned as he let his fingers trace circles around her nipples, his tongue tasting the lobe of her ear. For a while they stayed that way, the hot water hitting them and their bodies sliding softly against each other, the words unspoken. It was what he needed, because soon he found his courage.

The Doctor found his courage in the way she turned her head to the side and kissed his lips, the way she lifted her hands above her head to run her fingers through his short hair. He found courage in the subtle peaks of her nipples and the water droplets on her eyelashes. Putting his hands on her hips, the Doctor turned her to face him and pulled her body flush against his, his aching erection hitting her in the stomach, her breasts hot against his chest. He attacked her mouth, pouring his words into her with his tongue. Rose responded, moaning around him, lacing her fingers around his neck. He rarely kissed her like this, rarely let himself feel the words he needed to say while their mouths connected, but something about the steam around them convinced him that it needed to be done. His tongue pushed its way in, tasting every corner of her mouth. He grasped her behind with his hands, found himself lifting her, holding her against the wall of the shower. He grunted when he felt her legs wrap around his waist, his cock pushed up between them, her heat begging so close to him.

"Rose." Her name was all he could manage, but oh, it was a beautiful name. He moved his tongue to her neck, his hands grabbing hers, stopping their trip around his shoulders. He couldn't bare her touch, it was driving him mad. As the Doctor licked the line of her collarbone (gods, he loved that bone), he held her wrists above her head, preventing her from driving him any more mad. But the way her legs were around him, the way he could feel her heels digging into his behind...The Doctor found her breast, lightly licking her nipple at first, and then sucking fiercely, his desire and arousal and love mixing and causing him to buck his hips up, his cock sliding against her spot. That spot. He loved that spot. He grunted, moved to her other breast, his fingers tight around her wrists, thrusting his hips up again, loving the feeling of her wetness and heat and arousal rubbing on him. He ached to enter her, just a little shift and he'd be in...

"Doctor," Rose panted, and suddenly he released her wrists, his hands around her back, his mouth on her neck again. "Doctor, I love you." And he wanted to say it so badly. Wanted to be inside her, loving her from the inside, but she had his mouth again, this time her tongue plunged forward and licked his teeth, wrestled with his tongue. One hand moving away from her back, grabbing her breast, squeezing. Gods, he loved these breasts. He couldn't get enough of them, and as he kissed her and massaged her flesh, he recognized her flailing. Realized she was turning the water off. Taking her cue, he carefully stepped out of the shower, carrying her, kissing her.

How they made it to the bed without falling, the Doctor couldn't fathom. Laying her on the bed, the Doctor briefly considered towels, drying off, but his body burned and he needed her. And Rose needed him. He stood before her stretched out and watched as she let her fingers rub herself, watched in awe at the way Rose laid before him with no worry, no insecurity, and pleasured herself for him. He thought briefly of that first night when she'd showed him. When he'd first seen her beautiful body naked and the way he had been so confused and filled with guilt. Smiling, the Doctor realized how different it was now. How it'd been nearly a year since that night, and how he could watch her do this and feel only love, no shame and no guilt.

Suddenly unable to resist any more, the Doctor fell to his knees and plunged his tongue right into her, going for the spot she loved. He gripped her hips and lifted her from the bed, giving his mouth better access, his fingers kneading into her hips, her bum. He heard her screaming, her curse words, but he continued ravaging her, licking and sucking every centimeter of her that his tongue found. Rose came violently, her scream loud in his ears and her body bucking forward, quaking with her orgasm.

As she came back down, the Doctor set her bottom back down on the bed, wiping his mouth as he crawled up her. He loved this part. He loved when she had just come, her body still sensitive and vulnerable. He loved looking at her when she was overcome with the pleasure she'd just experienced, experienced because of him. The Doctor smiled as she lolled her head to the side, her eyes hazy but meeting his, her features soft and washed in love.

"My Rose." He kissed her neck, he loved the way she tasted just to the left of her chin, and lazily drew his fingertips up and down her stomach. He let his mouth worship her, kissing all of the sweet spots of her body as she calmed down, regained herself. He moved his lips over the tips of her fingers, kissed the palm of her hand. Tasted the pulsing point in her wrist, kissed the crook of her arm.

Finally able to move again, Rose slowly sat up, pushing her hand against his chest. He laid back happily, a smile dancing on his face as he watched her change. Her face sexy again, no longer soft and sated, she began kissing his chest. He felt himself tremble, his need for her so close to the surface, his arousal so deep and hot and evident. She kissed down his body, shifting herself to find his cock with her hand. Laying on her stomach with her toes in the air by his head, Rose wrapped her lips around him and sucked, his erection moving down her throat in a different way this time, a different angle. Oh, that was wonderful. He found himself moaning as she bobbed her head up and down, his cock sliding along her tongue, her throat.

The Doctor reached his hand out, happy to find her bottom still near him. He squeezed her cheek as she sucked, loving being able to touch her while she did this to him. No one had ever done this to him, never given him this gift, and he swelled with love for Rose for being the one. Being the one who found beauty in him, found herself wanting to give him pleasure instead of just asking for it from him. He nudged her thighs apart as she sucked, and Rose hesitantly opened them for him. She licked the head of his cock, rubbing her tongue in a circle around his tip before kissing it, swallowing it again. The Doctor found her sensitive flesh and coasted his finger over her, grinning as she bucked her body around, still too raw. Opting for her other need, the one he had oh so recently learned about, the Doctor carefully moved two fingers inside her, exploring her from this angle, his eyes closed as he enjoyed her mouth as well.

Rose moaned around him, suddenly bobbing her head quicker, and the Doctor copied her movements. Matching her rhythm, he thrust in and out of her, pleased to find her hips meeting his thrusts. He loved when she loved what he did, and he rolled his head to the side, kissing her calf. The Doctor moaned when he felt her hand squeezing his testicles, her mouth still steadily sucking, her tongue rolling around him, sliding him in and out. He felt Rose's hips quivering, felt her pick up her speed, urging him to go faster. When he felt her walls quivering around his fingers, felt her mouth groaning and panting around him, felt her pleasure mounting because of him, the Doctor came. His seed shot out, down her throat, and Rose drank him hungrily as her own climax wracked her, her legs going stiff and rigid.

He left his fingers inside her, finding her body comforting and warm, and waited for her to move. He felt cool tingling sensations in his body, and he closed his eyes, his fingers inside her, and let himself enjoy it. Rose released him from her mouth, and as she turned, his fingers slipped out. She crawled up the bed, collapsing next to him, her mouth smiling at him as she drifted to sleep. Overwhelmed with how much he loved her, needed her, the Doctor rolled to his side and kissed her forehead, his arms protectively pulling her to him, holding her in his embrace as he let sleep drift over him also.

* * *

Greeting royalty on Remorla 9, the alien in a fancy headdress addressed the Doctor.

"And who is your lovely companion, Doctor?"

The Doctor's hand moved from Rose's and gripped her hip possessively, pulling her close to him.

"She's no companion, Your Grace. This is my partner, my woman, Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth."

* * *

He knew she would appreciate Earth traditions. No matter how much Rose loved the stars and all of the places they visited, how much she embraced the cultures and the cultures embraced her (she always seemed to be in the middle of praise by some alien or another), he knew that Rose was actually a simple woman. He knew that Rose loved him simply, with no pretenses. He knew that she lived simply, with few possessions that she held dear to her. He knew that her wants were simple, a life with him in the stars. And no matter how much he doubted that she really did want to give up her chance at normalcy for him, no matter how often he questioned if he was wrong to steal her away from her mum and her mates, he still found himself pacing the aisles of the Earth jewelry store.

"Would you like to see anything, sir?" The woman's smile was bright and toothy.

"I'm just...looking." Hands in pockets again, defenses up.

"Must be a lucky girl in your life." Her boldness bothered him, prickled his skin. He forced himself to smile politely.

"I'm the lucky one." And strolled out the door, unease settling over him again, doubts running through his mind. Not yet. Soon, but not yet.

* * *

**A/N: And this is the part were I extend big, public gratitude and thanks to TARDIS-BadWolf for inspiring this chapter with her wonderful reviews and comments. ****All of you readers inspire me, motivate me, give value to my work. Thank you, thank you, thank you.  
**

**More soon, as always. xox Emmy **


	13. Chapter 13

"What is it, Doctor?" Rose put her hand on the Doctor's arm, looking concerned, hating that bland expression he got when things were bothering him.

"Hmm?" He sipped his tea, kept his eyes on the menu. The Doctor was brooding, it was true, but it was not the time or the place to go into it. He wanted to enjoy their food, their time away from he chaos he'd created with those workers at the plant, time to enjoy his beautiful partner. He loved calling her that.

"Oh, don't be that way. Jus' out with it. What's makin' ya cross now?" Rose set her menu down and stared at him.

"Rose. 'm fine." They continued in silence, The Doctor gazing around the cafe, Rose gazing at him, irritated. Rose made conversation with the waiter, turning her attention away from her brooding Doctor. He tried to ignore it, keep his breathing steady and his heart beats at a steady pace, but oh, he was boiling inside. And it was new, so new, for the Doctor feel this. Never a problem before, the Doctor found himself becoming more and more enraged as he watched the pretty boy waiter laugh with Rose, make her laugh.

After their food came and went, the Doctor stole her hand and tugged them from the cafe, walking briskly down the street. He needed to get them away, and he hoped that the distance would calm him, make him forget what he watched.

"Don't try to tell m'you're still fine, eh?" Rose was beginning to sound angry, and he hated that. The Doctor wanted Rose happy, but...but he'd seen that boy's eyes down her shirt, he'd seen the way he had licked his lips before speaking to her. Not that daft, him, he could read human body language. Well, he was getting better at it, anyway. He didn't respond, instead pulling her around a corner, into an alley, into the dark.

"That waiter was flirting with you." The Doctor growled, his mouth close to her ear, his hands gripping her hips possessively. "And your blouse, Rose Tyler, is very revealing." His words were hot against her skin, and Rose gasped.

"You're jealous?" She breathed in confusion. Her heart beat loud beneath her skin, Rose put her hands on his shoulders.

The word was revolting in his brain—he hated it, didn't want to be associated with it, but he stopped to consider, pinning Rose against the wall.

"Yes. Quite, actually." He put his forehead against Rose's, his mind suddenly swimming with all he knew of jealousy—films, novels, Rose Tyler's breasts on display for someone else, and it was too much. Keeping her pinned against the wall, the Doctor hoisted her leg up over his hip, grinding his sudden erection into her, attacking her mouth with his.

"Doctor." Rose breathed, her arousal evident in her flushed cheeks, her hooded eyes.

"_My_ Rose." And his lips found hers again, his fingers biting into the flesh of her thigh. The Doctor didn't fully understand why he felt what he felt, but the fact that he felt it seemed to be good enough for the moment. Pulling his mouth away, he stepped back, appalled at himself for what he'd done, but enjoying the way Rose seemed to be flustered and tugging her skirt back down, enjoying the fact that he was the one to surprise her for once. He grabbed her hand again, and they hurried towards the TARDIS.

"You're actin' like a regular bloke, ya know?" Rose laughed as they speed walked to the last block, her arousal sweeping through her, though not quite ready to admit that it turned her on, him acting like this.

He didn't answer her until they were inside the TARDIS, the door closed, Rose pressed up against it, his knee between her legs, his mouth on her neck.

"You make me act like a regular bloke sometimes. Can't help it. You make me feel...greedy." He lifted her leg back up around his hip, he rather liked the way that felt in the alley.

"'m all yours, Doctor." Her fingers through his hair, down his neck, holding him there as he found that perfect spot on her neck.

"Undress." It was a command, and pleasure shot right through her. He rarely took control, rarely told her what to do.

He stood back, arms crossed, and waited. Rose kicked her shoes off and then began unbuttoning her blouse, the very revealing blouse that had started all this. Dropping it to the metal grating, Rose unzipped her skirt, letting it fall away as well. Standing there in her bra and kickers, Rose tried to keep her trembling under control, but her wetness pounded between her legs.

"Naked. I want you naked, Rose." The Doctor's voice was dark, and every syllable left a trail of sensations on her skin. She unclasped her bra first, letting her breasts slowly spill forward, knowing he loved them. Biting her lip, Rose pushed her knickers down, kicking them away.

"Now me." He spoke quietly, the sex in his voice nearly too much for her to handle. She stepped toward him and began undressing him. She came around behind him and took his jacket, ran her fingers along the waistband of his trousers before undoing his belt, his button.

When he was nude, the Doctor ran his hand along her arm, the hairs on her skin standing up. "Go sit on the jump seat." His erection stood straight out, but he didn't touch it, didn't let her touch. Rose walked over the grating and hopped up in the seat, unsure what he had in mind. The Doctor stood in front of her then, leaned back a little on the console.

"Spread your legs for me, Rose." Rose obeyed quickly, putting her heels up on the seat with her. "Touch yourself." Rose rubbed her finger over herself tentatively, her eyes watching him for a reaction. His cock definitely twitched when she rubbed that little bud. Rose found she couldn't speak if she wanted to, her body too tense, too aroused to do anything but stare at his erection and rub herself.

The Doctor kept his gaze on Rose, coasting over her body from her lips to her breasts to her sweet little fingers. Finally unable to resist any longer, he took himself in his hand and stroked. Rose bit her lip while watching, and he groaned. Her fingers rubbed that spot, and he saw her glistening with arousal.

"Taste yourself." And Rose lifted her finger to her mouth, slowly sucking on her fingers, her eyes locked on his. The Doctor's growl came out animistic, needy, and he stroked himself harder, faster. Rose put her fingers back down, rubbing again, watching his hand on himself. He stepped forward then, closed the distance between them, and stood between her raised knees. It was the perfect height, the perfect angle. Oh, he wanted it. He wanted to be inside her, praising her, worshiping her. Instead he kept jerking, his orgasm close.

"Come for me. Now." Rose's free hand found her breast, squeezing herself as she rubbed her clit, the Doctor's breath on her knee, his cock so close. She came undone then, screaming for him. He kept rubbing, overwhelmed by the sight of her, the smell of her, the sound of her. Giving himself one final pump, the Doctor came. His seed spilled onto her fingers, her clit, her wet lips.

His bravery cracking, the Doctor stumbled backward, suddenly horrified and needing his clothing and wishing he hadn't just made a mess all over his Rose.

"Rose." He searched her face, looking for matching horror, but found none.

"That was bloody hot, Doctor." And she tossed her head back, laughing and panting at the same time.

* * *

"Rose, he's old enough to be your father!" Jackie Tyler scream-whispered, her hands on her hips, her eyes wild.

"Actually, he's old 'nough to be my great great great great..." Jackie cut her off, her arms waving about angrily.

"You're so sassy, aren't ya? Ya think that protects ya? Your sass gonna keep ya safe when the Doctah gets ya in trouble again?" Jackie busied herself with the wash, folding the towels and huffing about.

"Has before." Rose smirked and grabbed the towel from her mum, folding it nicely. "You gotta give 'im a chance, Mum. He's wonderful, really."

"Wha's he done to ya now, hmm? Made ya fall in love w'th 'im?" Jackie's mouth hung open, realizing she was right.

"Actually, I do love 'im. And he knows. So?" Rose carried the stack of towels down the hall, hoisting them into the cupboard.

"Ya hardly know him!"

"That's doesn't mean I can't love him. He's 900 years old, and from a different world entirely, how could I know all of him? But I love 'im."

"Well wha' comes next, Rose? Ya gonna get married, 'ave a little alien baby, buy a highrise flat on Jupiter?" Her rage was evident, and Rose sighed.

"Nope. Don't think so."

"Well wha' then? Tell me, Rose, wha're ya goin' to do now?"

"Mum, I go on livin' m'life. Lovin' my Doctor. Makin' a difference in this universe while I can." Rose shrugged and wandered to the sofa, flopping down. She expected the Doctor back soon, he'd promised, but Rose toyed with the corner of a pillow, realizing she missed him. An exasperated Jackie went to the kitchen, bothered herself with the dishes, gave up talking to her daughter.

And Rose wondered, not for the first time, or even the hundredth time, if he'd be back. He did so much to convince her that he wanted to spend forever with her, but he also did so much to convince her that he might drop her off and never say goodbye. She thought of him calling her his partner, of him pressing her back into the wall of the shower, of the way he looked at her when she wore his jumper...of him cringing and plucking a silver colored strand from her head (her first one, not that it made a difference really), of him not saying those words, of him being vague about their plans of where to go next.

Rose tried to ease the worry that was slowly building in her chest. What if he didn't want to tell her where they were going because she wasn't going with him anymore? What if that kiss in the TARDIS this morning before she'd run up to see her mum had been the last one? What if...what if.

Unwilling to let her mother see her worry, Rose closed her eyes and pretended to be exhausted. _Oh, Doctor._ _Come back for me. Don't abandon me. _

Hours later a knock on the door woke Rose. She'd fallen asleep on the sofa, worrying herself into tears and then into sleep. Jackie had left her alone, gone out to do some shopping, and Rose had sit on the sofa and cried softly. The tears were little testaments: _I love you, Doctor. Come back for me. You love me, I know you do. _

"'ello!" He smiled so large, so innocent, that Rose couldn't help returning the smile. She hadn't realized how much that smile meant to her, how everything she did most days was to try to get him to smile at her like that. "What's this, then? You've been crying?" His face swept with worry, his thumb finding her cheek, rubbing at the dried spots of salt.

"I was just worried." She tossed her arms about him, let herself relax.

"Worried? I was just charging up the TARDIS, not much trouble there, even for me." He looked about the flat, his head bobbing around as he scoped out signs of Jackie. Satisfied she was gone, the Doctor took her chin, met her lips, made promises with his mouth that he swore to himself he'd keep. When he released her lips, Rose sighed, calmness floating over her.

"Sometimes I think ya won't come back for me." She admitted shyly, sitting down on the sofa, turning her eyes away from him.

"Not come back for you? That's mental. Thought you might want time with Jackie 's all. Would've kept ya right in my arms while the TARDIS filled up if I'd known you were going to cry. I hate your tears." He looked a little hurt, and Rose smiled at that, happy to have him folding himself into the sofa next to her. "'sides, thought you were gonna tell 'er." He nodded at her, grinning again.

"Tell her what?" Her throat croaked.

"Well, about our relationship. We are still in a relationship, right?" The Doctor teasing her, oh she loved that. Rose found herself grinning, shifting her body, straddling his lap.

"Oh yes. A committed relationship." She quirked her eyebrows at him, her fingers gripping the lapels of his jacket.

"It better be." And he caught her lips again, his teeth toying with her lower lip before letting his tongue into her mouth, his hands sliding up and down her back. She loved him like this, these moments when he admitted little things, showed her how happy he was to have her. Rose's hands slid up his chest, her mouth greedy as she kissed him. She felt the stirrings beneath her, felt the grumble from his chest as he broke away.

"Not here." But she stayed put, resting her head against his shoulder, listening to his even breathing. And the Doctor kept his arms around her, holding her like he once dreamed he'd never be able to.

"I love you, Doctor." Rose whispered against his neck, her nose brushing against his earlobe. The Doctor's chest rose, as if he were about to respond, when the door to the flat swung open.

"Oi! Wha's this then, ya two have a spaceship to be frisky in, not in m' flat ya don't! Go on, get up, get out if ya need to!" Jackie waved her hands at them, shouting, and the pair laughed and blushed and smirked as they stumbled off the sofa, out the door, down to the TARDIS.

* * *

Rose pushed the door of the TARDIS open happily, ready to meet the day. He'd refused to tell her where they were going, and the idea of the Doctor trying to surprise her had Rose in a fit of excitement. She looked over her shoulder happily, waiting for him to stroll up behind her. Wanting him with her when she stepped out.

The first thing that Rose noticed was the brilliant sky. It was clear as glass, and she found herself squinting into it, wondering how a sky could shine. The second thing she noticed was the sound of the wind blowing. It was odd, Rose thought, to hear the wind roaring, somehow pleasantly mind you, but only feel the slightest tickle across her skin. And the third thing that Rose noticed was the sweet and tangy smell.

"What is that gorgeous smell?" She beamed at him, stepping into the grass.

"Applegrass." He grinned when he said, expecting the overjoyed expression that came over her.

"Applegrass! Of course!" She spun around, laughing. "Why now? You've been promisin' me applegrass for months and months!" Rose sat right down in the grass, not bothering with going back for a blanket.

"Just thought it was time you saw it, 'stead of me blabberin' on about it. What do you think, Rose?" He sat down in the grass with her, his arm pulling her close to him. Cuddling her. In public. Well, in a grassy field, but in public.

"It's just grand, Doctor. I love it." And he could tell that she did, truly, love the applegrass. And oh, he'd wanted her to love it. He'd wanted her to tell him it was the most spectacular thing she'd ever smelled, but she didn't say quite that, did she? The Doctor stroked Rose's arm absently, half-listening as she hummed and ran her fingers through the sharp blades. No, Rose hadn't said just what he had planned for her to say. And even though what she had said had been rather close, pretty bloody brilliant, really, it thrown him off.

The Doctor had a plan. He had orchestrated things in a very specific way. They were going to step into the grass and Rose would throw her arms around him and say the specific thing he thought she would say, and then he would sweep her up, tell her he loved her, and...well, he'd not actually gotten that far. But he imagined he would figure it out from there.

But sitting in the applegrass with Rose wasn't panning out to be the amazing, romantic, perfect thing he had wanted it to be. It was good, yes, of course, everything with Rose seemed to be wonderful, but it wasn't an I Love You Forever kind of moment, and he needed one of those kinds of moments. Even though his hearts were yearning and his mind was finally making some sense, he couldn't spoil the perfect words by saying them in a less than perfect place. The Doctor began plotting again. The supernova?

"This seems like a wonderful place t' talk." Rose leaned back, sprawling out in the grass.

"Oh? What do you wish to talk about, my Rose?" He joined her laying down, letting his eyes close against the harshly bright sky.

"Oh, anythin'. Tell me 'bout your life before me. 'bout Gallifrey." Rose plucked a blade of grass, bringing it to her nose.

"Oh, marvelous place. Just gorgeous." He swallowed, his throat suddenly constricted remembering his home. His home that he'd never see again. "Had these mountains...and the sunsets there were..." The Doctor couldn't finish his sentences, emotion coming up his throat like bile.

"Sounds wonderful," her words were light feathers against his ears. Rose rolled, putting her head on his chest, aware that she shouldn't push him, should feel honored she'd gotten even that much out of him.

"'twas." He stayed silent a while, enjoying the weight of Rose Tyler's head near his hear, enjoying the warmth from the sun. Enjoying Rose. "Why don't you tell me somethin'. Tell me one of your stories, Rose Tyler. 'm sure you have some." His hand caressed her back.

"Hardly. M'life didn't begin 'til you came along."

"That's not true. Can't be. Every single thing you did before you met me was terribly important. Tell me about some o' them." The Doctor could feel her smile into his chest, and it pleased him. He loved her smile.

"Once when I was, oh, maybe fifteen and m'mum was out late, I sneaked out of the flat. Not much of sneakin', seein' how I used the front door, but still, she didn't know."

"And where did you go?" His voice amused with her, happy with her.

"Oh, wherever. Looked at the stars, walked around, bought some chips, took m'self to see a film. Don't even remember what film it was now." Rose nuzzled her face against his chest, and he slipped his hand under her shit, rubbing her bare back lightly. "But 'twas a great night. I remember wishin' I could do it more often, just go out and experience the world. And look at me now, experiencing the universe."

Her story warmed him. In fact, it more than warmed him. The Doctor felt heated to his core, completely overwhelmed with something. Hearing her connect her youth to...connect it to him in such a small way. The Doctor brought his other arm up, holding her against his chest tightly.

"'nother time, I sneaked out with m'mate Shireen. I remember wantin' to get so dressed up for it. Did m'hair, wore red lipstick! Oh, we got int' trouble. Met some blokes by a little shop, trouble ensued." She laughed nervously, and the Doctor paused, waited.

"What trouble?" He genuinely wanted to know, didn't want to know, needed to know.

"Hardly remember, ha." And she was quiet.

"You don't have to tell me anythin' you don't want to." And he meant that so much, wanted her to feel safe. Wanted her to know that he could respect her private memories the way that she respected his.

"Just, you know, human stuff. Got m'first kiss that night."

"That's not so human. Time Lords have first kisses, too." He traced the line of her spine absently.

"Yeah?" She sounded nervous, and the Doctor couldn't figure why. Oh, his precious girl. Always worrying about him, always loving him. Could break a man's heart, if he were a man.

"Yeah. Was just about 47, an associate. Terribly stuffy." Rose laughed loudly, her face jerking up to him.

"47? Wow."

"Eh, it's relative, Rose." He smiled, enjoying this little pocket of intimate conversation. These were rare. Oh, he wanted to know absolutely everything about Rose, but he accepted he would only know what she told him on her own. "Now, this bloke you met outside the shop, your first kiss. Good?"

Rose giggled. "Ah, it was okay. Nothin' special."

"You deserve special." And the Doctor couldn't resist not touching more, had to touch her, show her how special she was. He rolled them over, his legs tangling with hers, Rose's cheeks flush and her eyes bright. "You deserve so much special." His lips hovered over hers, his hips holding her down. "And your first...other thing? Was that special?"

"Ya, it was." Rose breathed, unsure and excited.

"Good." And his lips met hers finally, crashing into her mouth. And he was glad, truly, that someone had given Rose something special. His mind briefly wandered about as he kissed her, realizing it was probably odd to ask her about such a thing, but she'd answered, she hadn't shied away, and he just wanted to know that things were good for her. That she'd had a proper chance to live before he stole her away.

* * *

**A/N: 71 reviews?! You guys are amazing and I want to take you all home with me. Thank you. You humble me and my silly little story.  
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**Much love. More soon. xoxoxoxoxoxo Emmy **

***Just edited THREE errors. Sorry about that, guess I was anxious to post! **


	14. Chapter 14

"Do you have any regrets?" The question is soft, and she hopes she knows the answer. She hopes, but knows it's hoping against hope. She wants him to tell her that no, he doesn't, because he knows that even the worst things he's done were supposed to be done, but she suspects just the same. Rose suspects that he's not there yet, that he's still hurting, still broken. And oh, she wants him to be better. She wants to put ointment on his skin and bandage his hearts and make him see that the universe is okay, still thriving, because of him. She wants him to love himself as much as she loves him, wants to know what it is like to love a man that knows how to be okay.

"Yes." She knew the answer when she saw his face, saw the wrinkle near his eye. Their conversation is hushed, desperate, longing. They've been treading through sensitive territory for hours, learning about each other, trading secrets with their legs tangled in the sheets, their toes touching.

"You shouldn't." She tells him, but she knows that he knows she would say that. She knows that he can predict her, knows she isn't that unpredictable, and she's okay with that. Rose takes comfort in him knowing, finds beauty in the way he knows her well enough to know when she's about to argue, when she's going to cry, when she's going to need his lips or his arms.

"Do you?" He stares at the ceiling of the TARDIS. His voice doesn't waver, doesn't choke, but it sounds sad. There is a sorrowful feeling sweeping over their conversation, but Rose thinks yes, it's time. It's time for them to ache a little, explore those dark and sad parts while they have the courage. The two of them, facing enemies and running for their lives—surprisingly little courage between the two of them when the lights are low and the bed is soft. She thinks of all the times she's wanted to do this, wanted to explore his soul, but resisted because he wasn't ready. And she smiles a little, realizing that maybe she knows him almost as well as he knows her.

"No. I don't regret anything, because it's led me right here. Right to you. Right to this very moment." Rose whispers her words, letting them hang in the air, daring them to seep into his chest and his hearts.

"How do you do it? Put all the horrible things we've seen away and not regret them?" And Rose thinks about their day, about all the pain they witnessed less than 12 hours before. She thinks of the agony on the young woman's face when she accepted her fate. Rose thinks of the planet's scarred terrain with the smoking ashes and the sky that just never seemed to light, the way her heart had felt broken and severed when the small children had cried and Rose had just held their little hands and said prayers.

"I don't put 'em away. Some things...they're not 'bout me, or you. They happen and affect us, but they had to happen, and the best thing we can do 'bout it is acknowledge it, recognize it, and then let it go. Toss it back to the universe." Rose follows his eyes to the coral along the ceiling, hoping. She wants her words to affect him, wants him to understand that it wasn't his fault what happened today, or any day. She wants him to accept that a bad thing can happen and he doesn't have to take the blame or absorb any guilt. It can just happen and they can just see it, but she knows him. Knows that he can't watch something horrible without feeling responsible for it.

"You're wise beyond your years, Rose Tyler." The Doctor turned, rolled to his side, his eyes memorizing the line of her jaw. She wishes he'd agree, and throw the pain out there, let it float in the stars instead of in his mind, but she can see the way it sits there in him, reflecting in his cool eyes.

"Sometimes I think you're becomin' a part o' me, Doctor. I can feel ya inside me, soothing me, teachin' me to be wiser." Again, whispering. Their conversation too delicate for full voices, too special to be making eye contact. She feels his gaze on her ear, her chin, and goosebumps raise.

"I always think you're part o' me." His finger on her arm, his knee bumping her thigh gently. "I think you and I were always travelin' to each other. 900 years ago I was made for you to find me."

"You really think so?" She rolled over, giving him her back, hiding the tremor in her lip as she bit it. His arms came around her so casually, pulling her gently to his chest.

"Absolutely." His finger thumbing the hem of her t-shirt, their bodies molding into each other. Rose closed her eyes, holding the sound of his voice in her head, her heart, her soul. She said a silent prayer, desperate to always remember this moment.

"How do you know?" Her finger tracing the line of his finger.

"Isn't it obvious? I know in the way you look at me, the way your voice calls to a part of myself I didn't quite know was there before, the way you save me and fix me and love me. I just hope...I just hope that you were made to find me, also." A pregnant pause, a tremor. "You've stolen my hearts, Rose. They're yours. I'm yours." His mouth against the crook of her neck, speaking into her hair. Rose felt a tear sliding down her cheek, happiness. Gloriously sad and haunting happiness.

"'nd I'm yours." Whispers.

"Forever?" Desperate.

"Longer than that." Hopeful.

A sigh, a kiss on the nape of her neck. A hand under her t-shirt, a knee nudging hers apart. More sighs, rubbing backwards against him, fingers up and along his jaw. Hips grinding forward, backward. Kisses on her ear, her hair, her neck. Arousal, love, need in their movements.

"God, I love you, Doctor." T-shirt over her head, off.

"Mmm." Bra unclasped, removed. He grabbed her, cupped her, filled his hand with her soft flesh. He rubbed his lips along her shoulder, kissing her faint freckles, rolling her peaked nipples between his thumb. Rose moaned, her bum pressing backward eagerly, her hands helping her sweat pants down, kicking lightly.

His fingers find her, always find her, touch her that way. He pressed into her bare skin, shifting his hips lightly, his mouth between her shoulder blades.

"Rose. My Rose." His breath moist and hot.

"My Doctor." Rubbing, moaning, sighing. His hand moved over her, pushing into her, his knee against her bum, grinding. He opened his mouth, nipping her, biting her shoulder, rubbing against her, coaxing her into climax. Her wetness all over his hand, a sensual reminder of what he does to her. Rose's hips wiggling, her mouth open, her juices flowing. When she came, the Doctor held his palm hard against her, pressing her writhing body hard against him.

Rose turned, found his mouth, her tongue dancing with his. Eager, greedy. Her hands groped him through his trousers, and she thought of the way he needed her. Rose unbuttoned him, doing away with them, and remembered his words. Grasped him in her hand, and imagined his hearts being hers. Bit his lips and visualized him saying the words she hoped to hear.

Rose stroked him tenderly, marveling at his smooth flesh, his panting. She pressed the tip of him against her stomach while she pumped, licking his jaw, cataloging each whimper.

"You're fantastic." He panted, whispered, his eyes wild and searching for hers. She pumped faster, overwhelmed with him. Felt his love moving around her, begging him with her hand. _Say it. Say it, Doctor. _He came with his hand gripping her triceps, his brow knotted and pained. She stroked him again, for good measure, milking his rapture until he took one long and quivering breath. Bodies sated, but minds reeling, they closed their eyes anyway, let their minds hum with pleasure, let sleep prance around them.

* * *

The Doctor scans the monitor, his gaze dark and intense, and he knows that Rose is smirking at him over the top of her book. He can't smile back though, can't share in the laughter in her eyes right then, because he is looking for something. Something special. He jabs some buttons and searches the screen again, desperate. The Doctor is close to exasperation. He has searched decades and decades of constellations, but it isn't there. And even though he doesn't know exactly what it looks like, he's positive that he'll recognize the moment when he sees it, when it shows itself to him on the monitor. He is searching for the perfect moment, the absolute definite and gorgeous and fantastic moment in all of time and space where he can tell Rose Tyler that she is _it_ and that he loves her in a way that is driving him slowly mad and dawning clarity on him at the same time.

"How about milkshakes? I could use a milkshake 'bout now." She calls from the seat, and he is distracted. Rose wants a milkshake. Of course! And the lightness of her request makes him smile and wink at her, abandoning his search for now. It can wait. They have time. Soon, but still so much to do before then. Like get Rose a milkshake.

"Comin' right up!" And the TARDIS shakes and squeals and he is filled with joy while watching Rose grip the seat, the familiarity of flying so evident on her that he feels tremendous pride. His Rose.

* * *

In the TARDIS kitchen Rose scrubs the counters, her hair a mess around her face, her feet bare.

"You don't hav't do that." There is a smile in his eye as takes a seat at the small table.

"Ah, don't mind." Soapy water in the sink, Rose's back to him.

"Can't say I mind either." He chuckles, and she turns surprised.

"What's that?"

"You. Barefoot in our kitchen." And they laugh, because it's so ridiculous, because he's teasing, because her heart flutters and she doesn't know what to do with her mouth besides let the giggles out.

"Do you want to hear a story?" His voice is more quiet then, his eyes still glimmering. Intrigued, Rose nods from the counter. She knows better than to sit down, look him in the eye, not while he's in the middle of opening up. Rose is learning, day by day, that he's most candid when their eyes don't meet.

"I had a daughter once." A subtle pause. "And she had a daughter." Rose froze, the momentum of the conversation hitting her hard. Back still turned, she tries to keep her voice casual.

"What were their names?" She counted the seconds. Eighteen.

"Names aren't so important in Gallifrey. Weren't. Weren't so important." She knows what he's doing behind her. She imagines him making circles on the top of the table with his finger. "My daughter's daughter, my granddaughter, she liked to be called Susan. She was...a lot like me."

"Bet that was a sight," she tries to keep it light, wants him to keep going.

"Aye. She was feisty and hungry for knowledge." Silence, grief, mourning for her. "I had a brother and a sister, too. Didn't much get along, moral differences, you know. But..." Rose knew he was sighing even though she couldn't hear it. She knew he'd be completely hunched over the table then. "But they're gone. Now our only difference is that I'm alive and they're not." Rose turned then, keeping her hands on the counter, her shoulders upright for him, somehow feeling it terribly important to stand up straight and be tall for him.

"Doctor." She doesn't have words, none that would take the pain away, but she speaks to fill the silence, speaks to keep him going. His eyes flutter towards her, skate up her body, and then back to the table.

"And my mother, oh, she was fantastic." Another pause. "She was disgraced though, 'cause of me. Always felt bad 'bout that, that she chose to love me despite how reckless I was. That she got blamed for my wildness." He chews his lip for a moment, and the mannerism is so un-Doctor that Rose can hardly take it. She crosses the room on soft, quiet feet, kneels in front of him. "My mum loved me a bit like you do." His hand strokes her hair absently, like she's not even there, like it's someone else's hair. "Like she didn't care what others thought 'bout it, didn't need anyone's permission, just loved me." He finds her face, not her eyes, but he looks down at her lips, her nose. Rose put her hands on his thighs, looking up at him sadly.

"You deserve her love. You were worthy, Doctor. Are worthy." And she doesn't know if they're the right words, but they feel like silk coming out of her mouth.

"Had a wife on Gallifrey, too." Rose isn't surprised, doesn't let it phase her. She knows this, knew this, expected this. "I...I shouldn't tell you about her, should I?" He looks puzzled, and Rose moves a hand to his chest, in the middle, between both hearts.

"'s okay. Tell me."

"It was...difficult. To love her. I tried, but...I was a different man then, ya know. Hadn't done much or seen much, but there I was, settled down. Gods, I hated that." A small smile, and it's gone before she can register it. "She hated me for hating it. We were always doomed, I think." More silence, and Rose doesn't move her hand. Her mind whispers to her, tells her to keep it there to keep him going. "She deserved better than me. Deserved a proper Time Lord, but got stuck with me..." The enormity of his secrets pounds in Rose's ears, and it's the first time she has ever considered just how much more he has lived than her. Not in terms of the galaxies or the traveling or the adventures, but in terms of life. He has lived and loved and lost more than she can fathom, and her heart fractures a little for him.

"But my point is, Rose...my point is that they're all gone. I know I say all the Time Lords are gone...but... what I mean is that m'family is gone." Rose sees the tear in corner of his eye, sees him holding it there and staring at her cheek. "And then you come along...lovin' me." He finds her eyes then, and the tear rolls down. Rose catches it with her lips, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I love you 'cause you deserve it." She kissed his closed eyelid. "You are the most lovable, incredible, important," her lips skip to other eyelid, "good, passionate, fantastic," her lips find his mouth, "being that I know." His arms around her, holding her, crushing her to him.

"Are you m'family now?" Her strong, old, big-eared Doctor looks lost.

"I am." And he pulls her to his lap, rocking her, his face buried in her neck, for hours.

* * *

The Doctor wondered if he should have brought someone with him. Mickey? No. Jackie? Absolutely not. Shireen? No, hardly even knew that one. His face frowned as he realized that Rose didn't have many mates, concern sweeping over him. Was it his fault? Did he keep her from making friends? Surely a girl of her age ought to have best mates that could be consulted for this sort of thing. But, it was a topic for another day.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the glass door open and kept his eyes cast down. A cherry hello, but he waved it off, determined. He had a mission, and thoughts about Rose's mates and the too enthusiastic smiles of shop girls needing commission were not going to keep him from doing what he needed to do. Hands in pockets, he gazed around, made some mental notes. It was suddenly so much more difficult than he realized. He expected to just see it and know, as he usually did with most things, but everything looked exactly the same. Rose Tyler would be happy with a ring made of string, but she deserved so much more. What to give the woman who fixed a broken Time Lord? How to commemorate a love that defied every rule he'd ever set? Where to begin to worship her?

"Can I show you a particular kind of jewelry? Necklace? Ring?" The cheery girl asked, and he wanted to forget his manners so badly. He wanted to tell her to look around at this garbage and then ask him that again. He wanted to tell her that she was selling nonsense and none of it was right and oh...He shook his head, frustrated, pushed the glass door in the other direction.

The Doctor sighed on the street, the air brisk in his lungs and his large nose cold. He had to let go of all this perfectness. He knew, reasonably, that time would run out and the stars would burn up before he found the perfect everything. Perfect moment, perfect place, perfect ring, perfect words. There was no perfect combination, just them, and in a way, that was pretty perfect.

Pulling out the mobile, he dialed her quickly, looking about the busy city.

"Doctor," she breathed into the receiver, and lust swarmed him. Apart for maybe 3 hours and the missing her had turned him into a sap.

"Hullo, sugar." He cringed. Nope, that wasn't right. Rose burst into laughter. "Sorry, just trying that out. Still working on it."

"Ohh, I get a nickname?" She sounded girlish and sweet, and he wished he could kiss those plump lips of hers.

"If you're a very good girl, yes." He smiled broadly and began walking. "I'm on m'way to come get you." He said the last bit lower, in what he hoped was a sexy way.

"Finish your errands?" She sounded interested, and he loved it.

"Eh, gave up. Not the right city." He was vague, but she accepted it.

"Well, hurry up then. I can't take much more of my mum this year." They both laughed, and the moment was good. Pure. Sweet. He liked it.

"See ya soon, doll." He snapped the phone closed, hands back in his pockets, smile large, and turned the nickname over in his mind, it still not feeling just right.

* * *

Rose sat in the tub and craned her neck back, let her eyes close. The warm water seeped into her skin and her bones and healed her. She rested her arms along the edge, sinking deeper. Oh, it'd been a long day, and would probably still be a long and trying visit. They'd planned to go sightseeing on Winala X3, but of course something happened. A scream that they followed, arguments, a couple of chasing so-and-so about the city, some dangerous transport escapades, and finally, refuge in the screaming woman's home.

Rose lifted her toe from the water and pushed on the levers, more hot water adding to the tub, and she sighed heavily. She wanted to help the woman, wanted to make sure she was truly safe before they left, but Rose so badly wanted to just go to sleep. The Doctor had seen her weary face and sent her up for a bath, told her to relax a bit before the morning, which she found out was only an hour away, what with this planet's bazaar sunlight schedule. She squeezed her eyes closed tighter and willed the stress out of her body.

When he opened the door, Rose's head snapped to his direction, her face surprised, then relaxed. Her Doctor there to check on her. She turned her head back, closed her eyes again, sunk back down.

"You were great today, Rose." He pulled a chair near the tub—where'd he get that?

"Mmm...all in a day's work." She grinned and peeked at him with one eye.

"Let me wash you." He removed his jacket, not waiting for a response. Rose sat up, interested. Rolling his jumper sleeves up, he leaned forward and grabbed the soap packet, dusting the odd powder into his hands. Rose watched him, pleased at the way he adapted to nearly any culture or custom, and turned when he reached for her back. His fingers were strong and knowing, rubbing circles and then squares and then circles again, the stress and fatigue running in suds down her back. His hands slid down, circled her waist under water, then back up, down her arms.

"You're good at this," she sighed, her head lulled forward while he worked. The Doctor made a ticking sound and kept going, his hands coming to the front of her chest, rubbing the suds into her breasts, smiling as he took two handfuls and squeezed gently, eliciting Rose's small laugh.

"Rinse," a gentle command, and she followed, scooting down in the water. She wet her hair, the water falling down her back as she rose again. He spread the lotion-like soap into her hair, massaged her scalp, and Rose thought about how odd it was for them to be so gentle. She thought about her Oncoming Storm Doctor, and wondered if it was a phase. Were they honeymooning—still too wrapped up in their new feelings and freedom of touching to contemplate the bigger questions? Or, more likely, were they running from the big questions with their lips pressed together and their hearts vulnerable and needy because they knew what was coming? And, did it matter right then? No, Rose decided, as long as he kept touching her, none of it mattered.

He motioned for her to sit back up, his body leaning in again. She sat up, not sure what else he planned to wash, but found their lips together. His mouth moved over hers lightly, and when he pulled away she instantly missed his touch. Rose hoped, she was always hoping it seemed, that they'd figure this out. That he'd decide to tell her before...before it was too late, while it still had meaning.

"More?" Tired, achy, drained, neither of them had many words tonight. He gave her a gentle smile and leaned in again, his mouth moving over hers again, this time seeking something.

"'re beautiful." Rose could hear the weariness in his voice, knew it'd been a long day for him too.

"Get in here." She gave him a half smile, nodded to him. Rose thought about how he'd changed as he stood and shrugged his garments off. She watched the hard lines of his body, the lanky length of his limbs as he extracted himself from the clothing, and she thought about how far of a journey they'd made, how long of a year it had been, how long his life must feel. He stepped in with more grace than a man that tall and long and naked should have, settled himself between her legs, didn't resist when she pulled him gently, his back finding peace against her chest.

Rose kept her arms around him, swirling the water around now and then. He kept his eyes closed, his face upturned. They were usually naked in such different circumstances that Rose found herself curiously eying his body. She noted with interest the way his chest sloped inward just a bit in the middle, the way his stomach appeared to have razor sharp lines even when folded the way it was. Seeing him so vulnerable left her heart fluttering, and Rose found her lips on his ear, kissing, whispering.

"_We're gonna be okay. I'll nev'r stop lovin' you. You are the sun, Doctor, the sun and the stars. I love you I love you I love you." _

He didn't respond, and she didn't want him to. She just wanted him to know. To always know. To take her words and sink them somewhere in his brain, reflect on them later. It was enough for him to hear them, maybe believe them, but hear them. And then his hand reached up, wrapped around hers, her lips fell forward and his thrust up, and they were joined in the way that made sense to them.

* * *

"Doctor, ya don't have to do this!" Rose squeaked, her eyes large with excitement.

"'course I don't have to, I want to." The Doctor winked at her, adjusting in the chair.

"Oi, this is absurd!" Her laughter was nervous, her fingers running through her hair as she looked around.

"No, it's nice. It _is_ nice, right?" He questioned, his head tilted to the side.

"Ya, it's nice. Mental, but sweet." Rose grinned at him, crossed her legs, uncrossed, tapped her foot.

"Right! And, is it sexy?" The look on his face made her squeal.

"So sexy. My sexy Doctor. All mine."

Needing no further chatter, he turned his face to the man. "On with it then!" The Doctor reached his hand out, grabbing her fingers, and closed his eyes. The needle buzzed.

"So, why a rose?" The man asked idly.

"For my Rose." The Doctor brought her hand to his lips, kissing her fingers.

* * *

**A/N: Readers, the words you write to me are lovely and inspiring and such a kind thing to wake up to in the mornings. Thank you for the gift you give me by reading.**

** (Also, I rather love this chapter. Hope you do too!) **

**More soon, as ever. xox Emmy **


	15. Chapter 15

Sitting in the library alone, Rose came to the conclusion that her seduction of the Doctor was not going quite as planned. Sure, they snogged nearly every day, but entire weeks passed between their full frontal, sexy trysts. And it wasn't that she was trying to get him to properly shag her (though that would be great), she understood that would take time (evidently), it was that she missed his touch, and she was also fairly certain that he was better when he was with her that way. Her Doctor was still amazing, still saving the world and the universe on the regular, still grinning that infectious grin and holding her hand and telling her to run, but he was also still brooding and deeply tormented. But then they'd strip their clothes off and move together, and she could usually see the pain and guilt and worry melt away from him. Which is why, she told herself, that she needed to be a tad more aggressive in getting him to touch her more often, and in turn, let her touch him more often.

She began on a Tuesday when the TARDIS had been acting funny and the Doctor insisted on orbiting for a while so he could take a look. Rose had walked into the console room fully naked and just waited. When he looked up and saw her standing there, her breasts on display for him, her thighs clenched together and begging him to tear them apart, he had growled and crawled, _crawled!_, over to her. On his knees, he'd budged her legs apart with his fingers, then grasped her bottom roughly as he dove in, licking her and tongue fucking her until her legs felt weak and she was positive she'd collapse right on his face. But he'd held her there, assaulting her clitoris and making her scream. When she came around his tongue, he'd wiped his mouth, winked at her, and crawled back over to the console, flopped down on his back again, and started buzzing that screwdriver.

On Wednesday he had landed them in a forest of sorts, and Rose had taken one step outside, seen the mosquitoes and felt the humidity and smelled the scent of animal feces, and had turned them around, shoving him by the chest, the TARDIS doors swinging closed behind her, and not stopped until she'd back him up against the console. He'd started to argue with her, tell her that the forest had these amazing mineral deposits that he could really stand to check out, but his talking wavered and finally hushed when she dropped to her knees and gave him an assault matching his from the day before. Rose unzipped his trousers and didn't even pull his pants down, just took his cock right in her mouth with his clothing still around his thighs. He'd grunted and gasped and finally taken a handful of her hair, using it to move her in forward, his throbbing cock practically smacking her tonsils. She'd dug her own nails into his behind, hoping to leave the kinds of marks that she could still feel on her own, and sucked and swallowed and licked until he'd shouted her name and bucked his hips forward violently. When she'd milked him, drank everything she could, which she could tell he liked by the way he hissed and stared at her in wonder, she stood and put her hands on her hips. "I want a different planet, please." And he'd pulled his trousers up and scurried to comply.

On Thursday, Rose planned her assault in the en suite. He'd been brushing his teeth, and gave her a happy smile with big eyes as she walked in behind him, joining him at the vanity. He wiggled his eyebrows and she knew he was trying to hurry because he wanted to tell her something, but Rose pretended not to notice and pulled her sundress over head. She watched in the mirror as his gaze became dark, but he kept brushing. Her elbow brushed his as she yanked her slinky little knickers down her thighs, and then, to his great surprise, she'd leaned over the counter top, sticking her bum out, and put her chin in her hand as if it were the most natural pose in the world to be naked over the counter top. He dropped his toothbrush then and let his gaze tear away from her hungry eyes in the mirror and follow her body. She could feel the way he ravaged her with his mind as his eyes swept over her bum, over her sex. Then, as if he were completely irritated, he rinsed his mouth quickly and came to stand behind her. His hands moved over her hips tenderly, and they locked eyes in the mirror. She bit her lip, a little nudging in the right direction, and she felt one finger trail from her hip over her buttocks, down, to her wet lips. She made a perfect O with her mouth in the mirror and watched him as he watched himself, stuck his finger inside her, then two fingers, and then he was pumping his hand into her while his other fingers grasped her hip tightly. She'd moaned for him, put on quite the show really, and was rewarded when she felt his fingers retract and busy himself with his own clothes. Naked, he'd put his cock right on her arse, and trembled in the mirror, finding her eyes again. Rose bucked her hips backwards a bit, giving him friction, and he began stroking himself, inserting his fingers back inside her, adding a third (first time!) and pumped his hand in rhythm with his movements inside her. Not really a show anymore but a full fledged sexual encounter, Rose screamed and slammed her bum backwards into his hand, savoring the look of him behind her, his cock in his hand, at her mercy. He'd come all over her behind, and she'd come all over his hand, and they cleaned up discreetly with little nips and kisses as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

When Friday came, Rose dressed to impress. Her shortest skirt, her tallest heels, her biggest eyelashes. She grinned in the mirror and ruffled her hair, ready to temp and tease her Doctor into pleasure. She found him in the TARDIS kitchen, a place they had shared so many tender and innocent moments, a place she _almost_ felt badly about defiling, but life was short. She came up behind him at the counter top and immediately dipped her hands into his trouser pockets, kissed him through his jumper right between the shoulder blades. He'd happily said hello to her, started to ask her where she'd like to go that day as he poured his tea, but she kept quiet and groped around in those pockets until she found her (rather soft) surprise. The Doctor jumped a little bit and tried to turn, but Rose pushed on him with her hips and he stayed put, grasping the counter top as she made him grow hard, his erection swelling and lengthening as she stroked him through the layers of fabric. Rose licked the back of his neck and whispered to him. "I want ya to come right here, Doctor. I want you to close your eyes and imagine shaggin' me on this counter top, imagine how hard you'd be slammin' in to me. Imagine the way I'll scream your name when your strokes make me come." And when he came, Rose bit down on his neck and enjoyed the hiss of air from mouth. He'd turned around, finally laying eyes on her, and dragged her to the bedroom. Rid of his sticky clothing, the Doctor had gone to Rose's bedside table and pulled out her blue plastic friend, and hadn't even asked when he pushed her down and spread her legs, kneeling between them. He'd yanked her knickers to the side, leaned in and quickly kissed her _there_ and then set about sliding her toy inside her. Rose had hooked her knees over his shoulders and screamed for him when he moved the blue shaft in and out of her, his tongue dancing over her sex. So turned on from the kitchen escapades, Rose's body was a bundle of nerves as he thrust into her and sucked on her little bud, his ears rubbing against her inner thighs as she shouted. She'd come quickly, and he'd been the one with the smug smile then.

By the time Saturday morning came, Rose had a plan. It was nearly a game by this point, and she loved it. Although she originally only wanted more contact, wanted him to be more relaxed, she admitted that she loved the way he responded to her advances, always so ready, always willing to let her take control. Deciding it was time for some sexual education, Rose stripped her clothing off and arranged herself on the sofa in the media room, remote control in hand. She pulled a light blanket over her stomach and legs, letting her breasts sit on display for him when he came in, and flicked on the channel she'd asked the TARDIS to supply her with (and hadn't that been the awkward conversation). Rose tossed the remote to the side and dipped her hand under the blankets, stroking herself lightly as she watched the couple on screen snog. He'd be along any moment, she was sure of that. She heard his careful steps in the hallway, she was getting used to the sound of his boots on the TARDIS floor, and she tossed her head back on the sofa, arranging herself on display for when he found her. She worked hard to keep the grin off her face, delighting in the surprise he was sure to have on his face. And oh, she wasn't disappointed. She heard the sharp intake of breath, and she jerked her head up, found him frozen in the doorway.

"Hiya, handsome." She made her voice purr, aware that the couple on the screen was now panting and moaning.

"Umm." A speechless Doctor was something Rose definitely enjoyed. She let one hand casually flick her nipple, while the other continued its slow movements beneath the blanket, where the Doctor's eyes seemed to be stuck. He didn't cross the room and pounce on her quite like she hoped, instead he stood by the door looking awestruck and confused and slightly embarrassed. Rose stopped touching her breast and curled her finger at him, motioning him to join her. He stumbled a little, tripping over his boots for no reason, and sat down on the sofa with her. She watched with glee as his eyes flicked to the screen and then back to her hand, mentally putting some puzzle pieces together.

"Wha's wrong, Doctor? 'm sure you've watched porn before." Rose raised an eyebrow and watched his lips turn into a hard line.

"Maybe once or twice." His admission was a tad shocking, but it also stirred something inside Rose. She grinned at him and turned her attention to the screen, watching a man's cocks slam into the actress' pussy. She heard him clear her throat, but didn't look at him. She made an effort to keep her eyes on the screen while she rubbed herself, hoping he would get ballsy and make a move. And oh, did he ever make a move. The Doctor adjusted a bit, moved around some, and when Rose risked a glance over at him she was stunned to find him with his trousers open and his cock pulsing in his own hand, while he seemed to watch the film. A second woman entered the scene on the screen, and she heard the Doctor groan a bit. Rose tried to mask her jealousy and reached out for his hand, bringing it under the blanket with her. His fingers knew exactly what to do, finding her spot and rubbing, his eyes still on the screen. Rose watched the trio with their limbs and lips all over the screen and moaned, causing the Doctor's eyes to find hers.

He turned and climbed over her suddenly, his back to the screen, as he licked and kissed her collarbone, twisted his fingers inside of her. Rose yelled out and he continued his movements, pumping into her fast and hard with his mouth slowly heading south. He scooped her breast up with his mouth and sucked, swirling his tongue over nipple as her back arched up off the sofa. The threesome behind the Doctor's head showed the two women sitting on the man, one on his cock and one on his face, and Rose gasped as he bit down on her, grinding his palm against her clit and hooked his fingers upward, touching her in that delicate spot. Rose came loudly, her climax making her shudder, and the Doctor kept pumping, clearly not finished with her. She tried to sit up and grasp him, but he kept himself planted on top of her, his mouth grabbing her other breast and sucking and nipping. His fingers stayed inside her, slowly beginning their dance again, and Rose quivered from her head to her toes.

It was about then that she noticed one of his hands holding himself, stroking himself while he attacked her. He lifted his hips up a little, keeping his fingers inside her, and rubbed the tip of his cock against her clitoris. Rose yelped and dug her nails into his shoulder, and he began a steady stroke of friction, his erection being stroked by slickness on her folds, her insides being pounded by his fingers. She could tell he was getting close when he breathing became shallow, and she could see the flare in his nostrils as he looked at her, his eyes burning and his mouth stern. The sight of him so bothered, combined with the film behind him in which the man was now smacking his cock against one of the woman's sex while another groped his balls was enough to send her over the edge. Rose's body shook as she came, and the Doctor seemed to let go also, his seed spilling on to her, his body collapsing forward on her.

"Turn that off," he growled, their bodies sticky and stuck together, his mouth near her ear. "The only pussy I ever wanna see again is yours, got that?" It was an order, and Rose bit her lip to hold a giggle in and nodded for him, flicking the screen of.

* * *

When Sunday finally comes, Rose is tired. Physically, her body still craved him, but her mind was elsewhere. The truth was that she had expected a little more from him—maybe a date or a little escapade that he initiated all on his own, but there was nothing. More saving things, more running, which she loved, oh, she loved to help people and make history and become parts of fixed moments in time, but she also loved her Doctor, and wanted him inside her like she could hardly stand.

"Can I do that for ya?" He is grinning like such a child that Rose can only nod, smile, hand him the brush. He sits behind her on the bed and carefully positions himself. He touches her hair first, just moves it back and forth from shoulder to shoulder, rubbing it between his fingers, before lifting the brush. And when he pulls it through her locks, he is gentle, and it's silly but Rose closes her eyes and imagines that this is what making love to him will be like: hesitant, gentle, tender.

"How can I miss ya so much when you're right here?" He speaks softly, she nearly doesn't hear him, but oh, she hears. When they're alone, their words have become whispers. The things they share too delicate and precious for the sound of echos and pitches. He doesn't say the words, still, but everything he does say makes her heart flutter and then contract, as if she is falling in love and getting her heart broken at the exact same moment.

Rose doesn't have words, she finds herself that way more often lately, just stunned by him, and so instead she turns her body and hugs him, buries his face against her neck, because her love is more powerful than words, more meaningful than some forced syllables. She unfolds her legs, wrapping them around his waist, sitting there on the bed but practically in his lap, and he keeps talking. "Why do you always feel like you're fadin' away?" He tosses the brush on the bed, his hands on her back, feeling the curve of her shoulder blades.

"'m not, 'm here. Right here, Doctor." And she has this feeling that he's lost and scared, a tittering moment of insecurity that is not her Doctor, not the strong and brave alien man that she adores, but a soft and tortured man that seems to need more of her, more of her love, every single day.

"Can I touch you?" Still whispering, his mouth hovering by ear, and she smiles because sometimes he still asks, as if she hasn't given him her body in nearly every way, as if she isn't really his to touch and love.

"Yes." She answers with quiet authority because he likes that, he isn't confused by it. Another time she might have said 'always' or 'of course', but not right now. Right now he needs her to tell him specific things that make sense, concrete answers and concrete touches.

He skirts his hands under her shirt and pulls up, disrobing her slowly. When she leans back to lift her arms for him, he finds her chin with his lips. His hands cup her breasts hungrily, his face turned down toward them, as if after all this time, these two years together, he still doesn't quite believe that she lets him do this, hold her this way. He rubs the pads of his thumbs over her nipples and a shiver races down her spine, and he likes that. Face still turned down, but she can see the corner of his smile. His hand pushes down on the middle of her chest, and she leans back, lets him make quick work of her shorts and knickers, getting her naked, his favorite. He pulls her back up and rearranges her legs around him, holds her there in his lap as he kisses her neck, her jaw, her shoulder.

Rose doesn't move much, doesn't try to get him naked (awkward movements would certainly be required), because she can sense that this isn't about that. He's not trying to seek pleasure, he's trying to give it, and she can tell by the way he cups her face and kisses her with his tongue moving hesitantly in her mouth. She can tell by the way he clutches her naked body to him, wanting his arms wrapped around her bare skin, but doesn't try to get her off. His mouth moves over her with a slightly frantic way, kissing her mouth, then her ear, down her chest and back up. Rose smiles to herself as he cups her bottom and just holds her there, his mouth leaving open-mouthed testaments along her skin, and she thinks for some reason a word: _worship. _

Finally, he leans her back on the bed and crawls on top of her, and she finds his face. Sees his need, his worry, his stress, his aching. And then somehow his worship of her seems sad, not sexy, and she fights to keep her mind on his mouth, on what he's doing kissing her thighs. She tries to push away the haunted look he's carrying around lately because it cools her body when he's trying to heat it.

Rose wonders if this is wrong. If she should never have let themselves get comfortable moving this way, pleasuring each other this way, because now they're so familiar that she worries sex, when it finally comes, will be too easy, not enough excitement. She wonders if giving him access like this is the reason he delays, and some old saying about a cow and free milk comes to mind, but that's silly. This is her Doctor. He loves her, she knows he does, he's just broken...His mouth on her navel, and she tries to focus. This is good. The Doctor, her Doctor, is about to lick her clit and bring her pleasure, and she should be so focused on that, but why does her heart hurt? Why does every movement feel like a goodbye?

"Doctor." Rose speaks gruffly, her voice a plea. But he doesn't notice because he's used to her saying his name, used to the way she moves and cries for him while he pleasures her. He kisses her there, runs her tongue between her folds, and her body responds but her mind swims in fog.

"Doctor." She says it again, this time scooting up on her elbows, trying to find him, trying to pull him out of wherever he goes when he does this to her. And she thinks what a selfish child she is, begging him to do things like this to her and then stopping him when it gets too intense. Rose feels flooded with doubt and concern, and then he finds her eyes. He stops kissing her there, sits up on his own elbows, and just watches. He doesn't speak, doesn't question, just looks up at her like she is the one calling the shots, but really it's him. Doesn't he see that? Doesn't he see that he's the one with all the control, holding all the cards? She lets him kiss her but he holds his affections over her like a hostage, and she wants to cry and scream, her doubt turning to anger.

"What're we doin', Doctor?" Rose chokes out.

"Rose?" He stutters, is confused, and she hates that. She misses her confident Doctor that knew exactly how to soothe her worries, but then, she remembers, that was her Doctor before all this. Before she convinced him to put her mouth on her pussy and before she held his cock against her tongue. Is she breaking him even more? Is she the reason he seems so much more fractured?

"'m sorry, just, I can't do this right now." She expects him to be hurt, wounded, male pride and all, the way Mickey would look when she rejected him (often), but he doesn't seem upset with her in the least. He moves up next to her quickly, cuddles her naked body against his very much clothed one, and kisses her forehead.

"We never have to do that, Rose. I'm sorry." He speaks with regret, and she hates herself. She's the one who started it all, with her week of getting him naked and teasing him. She's the one that thought it would be a great idea to see how turned on she could get him all week, and now she rejects him? Disgusting. She hates causing him pain, hates making things worse. And Rose thinks, for the first time in their two years, that she might be in over her head with this alien love affair.

"Don't be sorry. I told ya yes. I wanted it..." She rolls into him, buries her face in his jumper because she doesn't think she's strong enough to look at his loving face. "But...but you're so sad, Doctor. How can I do that when every time I look at you 'm worried about you?"

"You never have to worry about me, Rose." His hand against the back of her head, against the small of her back, cradling her.

"I do, though. I worry that you're so sad, so hurt inside, and I can't seem to fix ya, and I worry that we're going to do this—what we were doin'—forever because it's easier than admitting how you feel about me. It's easier to make me come than it is to say that you love me." She wets his jumper with her tears, and feels overwhelmed with the feeling of insignificance. Her alien is 900 years old and has seen more of absolutely everything than she can ever hope to, and here she is carrying on about changing him, forcing him to love her. And suddenly Rose becomes overcome with fear that he's going to break down and say it right then, and she doesn't think she can live with herself if he only says it because she's crying and wanting it.

"Rose, you do fix me, have been fixin' me. Since the day I met you." He swallows, and Rose knows that he is fighting himself, that flight reaction that is just so very _Doctor_ kicking in, but he stays planted in the bed, his arms around her. "I...I like to do that to you...I like making you come. Seein' you turn yourself all about, goin' mad 'cause of me...I like it." His lips in her hair, his hand bringing her chin upward. She looks at him and he meets her eyes. Stares her down even though it's so hard for him. "Rose, I'd never 'ave started all this with you if we weren't headed...there. You must know we are." And his eyes are crinkled, hoping, loving her even though he's broken.

And Rose does what she does: she tries to understand. With him looking at her like that, opening his soul to her right there in his bed (no, their bed) makes her embarrassed. Her cheeks flush and she finds herself being the one wanting to run. Just run, away, 'til everything makes sense again. Rose is overcome with the idea that of course they're headed there...he's never done anything to make her think that he _doesn't _love her, but it's just been so long.

"'m sorry." She wants to say more, wants to tell him how long two years feels when you've no idea if you're going to die on the next planet they visit, but she smiles a thin, unconvincing line because it's all she can do without spiraling this all out of control. Rose wants to run around the room and cry and shout and maybe toss a few books off the case and be a silly little human girl because sometimes that's what she is. She opens her mouth, thinking of telling him just a bit of that, but his mouth crashes into her, stopping her, stealing her words away from her, casting them aside because what she's about to say, she knows, is too painful for him.

When Rose pulls back from his mouth, she sees it again. That flash of sadness, that darkness inside him that raises all her doubts. And it's not enough to say he's pained, because that's not it. He's insecure. He's worried, and Rose feels tragedy in her heart. So many emotions of her own to deal with, and then he goes and lets her see his emotions too and it's nearly too much. The weight of what he expects of her—expecting her to understand, to always be okay with all this—it's heavy and consuming. Because Rose is human, not alien, not a goddess, and she's imperfect. She has flaws and sometimes they show because she can't deny the hormones that course through her veins. She can be good to him, good because of him, most of the time, but even she has cracks. And though she suspects he thinks differently, the truth is that even Rose Tyler is a selfish being once in a while.

"Doctor, 'm tired." Honesty, because she's got nothing left. Ragged from just looking at him, she wants to sleep it away, feel better in the morning. She thinks that she hates Sundays, and wishes she could just will away the doubts in her mind. She wants to go back to Tuesday, when she was Sexy Rose and Bossy Rose and Rose Knows Best, but she can't, and she hates her physiology.

"Rose...sleep." He cuddles her to his chest and they lay there, neither sleeping, both terrified.

* * *

The Doctor left her sleeping. She needed sleep, he reasoned. He stood next to his console and lamented. Maybe they'd made some mistakes. Maybe Rose was right—about what they were doing being wrong. He'd been against it at first, but he'd given in to the wants of his flesh because Rose was there, wanting him to, telling him it was okay. And he didn't want to blame her, not at all, because they'd walked into this thing hand in hand, but he'd believed her. He'd taken her word when she swore it was all okay, when she promised that what they were doing was enough.

The Doctor looked at the screen sadly. He'd found the perfect moment among all the stars and all the planets, nestled in his own time line, waiting for them, but as he stood there he saw it stretching further out, off in the distance, hardly around the corner anymore. When he first found the moment the day before, he'd whooped with joy and told Rose that he had a surprise for her. But the surprise had been forgotten when they'd ended up in hostile hostage negotiations with a gaseous planet that was on the way. And Rose hadn't brought it up again, and he hadn't felt it was right, not after something as scarring as that. He wanted things to be perfect, and that meant that they needed to have some alone time, some Doctor and Rose time where they touched and whispered and were perfect together as they have been so many other times. They needed that time before he could take her to the moment, The Moment, as it now felt.

But their alone time, the time he had designated in the bedroom just a few hours before, had been interrupted by Rose's insecurities. He knew that's what they were, wasn't confused about her wanting to stop, sort of always figured she was just one kiss away from telling him she couldn't do it anymore, but he was greedy and he needed her mouth, needed her climax as much as he needed his own, so he'd kept going and pretended they weren't on the cusp of something life altering. Her insecurities festered in his heart. She worried that she wasn't enough for him, that she wasn't going to be loved the way she needed, that she was about to die, that she was going to lose him...It was maddening and sweet and ridiculous the way she worried, the way she loved him so much that she had given him the most amazing gift of the flesh for as absolute long as she could before she let her chattering little mind get the best of her.

She'd feel better after some sleep, the Doctor told himself, jabbing buttons and hunching his body over the console, the stress forming knots and mounds between his shoulders. Besides, he still needed to find the ring.

* * *

**A/N: My life is madness right now, and the only thing keeping me sane is writing about these two. Thank you for reading, as always, I'm so appreciative of your support.**

**I also feel it is my duty to emotionally prepare you for the fact that this fic does not have too many more chapters. I'm sorry, but you know it's close... **

**3 Emmy **


	16. Chapter 16

He shuffled along, head down, confusion wrapping him up like a cloak. The ring was perfect, absolutely fantastic, but doubts he thought were long gone hung around him and felt like hands on his throat. They'd moved on, moved passed so many things, and yet here he was. Here he always was: unsure, doubting, missing the cue. The last Time Lord had terrible timing, and he'd laugh about that if he didn't feel so heartsick. He'd been waiting for the perfect moment for so long now that he'd missed dozens of them, and now he wasn't sure if he still had time. Rose had promised him forever, more than forever even, but he was no fool. He could feel the way her time line moved and sagged and stretched and shrunk with him around, he could feel the way she didn't want his touches lately. She'd woken up last Sunday with distance in her heart, and though she still smiled at him and shared his bed, sleeping with her hand clasped around his and her feet tangled in his legs, she hadn't said those words. She hadn't made any declarations of love for him in long enough that he missed it terribly, and suspected it was all his fault.

He'd strung her along too long, given her hope just to take it away with his mood swings. He'd showered her with affection and then nearly gotten her killed just one too many times, he was sure of it. Even Rose Tyler, his partner, had a breaking point. And the Doctor understood, truly. He knew that the human nature was to give and receive love, he just hadn't realized that he wasn't making his giving obvious enough. He'd thought it was clear in the way he touched her, but without the words she'd harbored her doubts, however deep inside her, and eventually it'd all become too much.

He wasn't the one who suggested they go back to London. He'd been working up the nerve to take her to The Moment when she sighed heavily and told him it was probably time to go see Jackie. He'd piloted in silence, afraid his voice would crack, afraid that she was growing tired of him, as he was always afraid. It was only in those moments when she held him and whispered her confessions that he was sure she was his forever. But then they'd dress and move about, face dangers and perils, and he'd wonder. The same way that she wondered, he supposed. And now here they were, both of them doubting and neither of them strong enough to handle it.

London was unusually warm, but he kept his jacket on, fiddled with the ring box in his pocket. He considered forgoing The Moment all together just to get this done and out of the way, but if ever there was a perfect The Moment, there was also a terrible The Moment, and he was pretty sure it was the latter. Rose hadn't really invited him with her, had just sort of walked through the door and gone to her old room, and so he'd stayed around the living room for a moment or two before the walls felt suffocating and Jackie had told him to get in or get out, and so he got out. He tried to imagine what Rose was doing in her old room, wondered if maybe she missed having her own space in the TARDIS, and promised he would offer her more privacy, even her old room if she still wanted it. Maybe he was suffocating her, or maybe it was just the opposite. Honestly, he'd no idea.

The Doctor found a bench in a park and settled down, aware that he must look ridiculous in his leather jacket in the sunshine in a children's park with no child. He wanted to go sit on the swing set and brood a bit, but that would certainly look even more ridiculous, so he clasped his hands together, leaned forward, hunched his shoulders, and stared at the ground. The Doctor wondered if Rose felt the same kind of despair he did. He wondered if she was breaking apart on the inside too.

* * *

Rose was passed hysterical crying. Holding it in for nearly a week because she was too afraid the Doctor would hear her, the feeling had mostly passed. But Rose was not above laying on her bed, staring at the ceiling, and going mad with depression.

It was confusing, this relationship she'd entered with him. She'd worked so hard, practically forced it, and so she found a specific kind of pain in the way things were now. She had wanted him to kiss her and touch more than anything, and once she got what she wanted, she just kept running. She just kept moving them along, showing him more things, doing more things, until she wasn't sure if what they were doing was intimate anymore and not just filthy. It was the first time that Rose had ever felt shame about her relationship with the Doctor. She couldn't be sure that what they were doing without their clothing was love and respect and not just lusty and meaningless. And frankly, the whole thing was terrifying. To give away her love so deeply and fully, with no idea if he would ever return it, what kind of girl did that make her? She thought that she must seem so desperate to him. Another sad little human thrusting her feelings on him, demanding that he love her. She was no better than any other lusty companion, no matter how many times he tried to tell her she was different.

There were moments so clear in her mind that she knew were love. The Doctor telling her about his family. The Doctor kissing her in the hallways just to kiss her. The Doctor tickling her when he thought no one was around to see. The Doctor sitting in the bathtub with her. Those were pure and sweet and wonderful, but what was the rest? She had sucked his cock more times than she'd ever touched another man's, had bared herself to him in so many ways she was sure she was out of ideas, and those things didn't feel like love. Not anymore. Those things felt cheap now, because no matter how much she loved him, it wasn't okay with her to carry on doing those things with a man that didn't love her back.

Oh, sometimes she felt certain that he loved her. Sometimes she would have bet money on the fact that he was just about to tell her so, too, but the time kept passing and Rose kept noticing the changes in her face and her body and there was just no confession. No declarations of love, just Rose giving and giving and giving and getting only carnality in return. She'd told him she could wait, and she really intended to, but the further things progressed physically, the harder it became to wait, and the more two years felt like a good chunk of her life, of her youth. Could she handle being, what, maybe forty years old, dying her hair and considering botox injections just to keep him thinking she was young, just to keep trying to persuade him to love her back?

Rose tossed on to her stomach and buried her face in her pillow, ignoring the nagging feelings inside her. She'd made him promises. She's told him it was okay that he wasn't ready! And what was she doing then, forcing his hand? Oh, her own self-loathing bubbled up and she toyed with it, conflicted and miserable. She felt unloved and pained and sick, but also guilty and foolish and like a liar. He deserved more from her than for her to throw her hands up and go cry in the corner like a pitiful human. He deserved someone who could understand the pain he'd been through and give him real comfort, instead of all the faking she'd been doing. She'd had no idea how to help these last two years, so she'd just kept giving him her body, kept trying to get him to talk. She was a fraud.

The knock on her door startled her from her own self-pity.

"Mum, not now. Go away." She covered her eyes with her arm.

"Rose, it's me." His voice, and somehow that was worse. He was worried about her, had come to check on her, and that really wasn't fair. He shouldn't be the one taking care of her, not when she'd obviously been the one to fail here.

"You should go on a trip, come back for me later, ya?" Her heart hurt just saying the words. She'd never let him leave her before, but he deserved better. Tears slipped down her face suddenly, and Rose realized she was not as far passed hysterical crying as she had thought.

"May I come in?" But he won't go away, and Rose only sniffled, aware that he can hear her with his pesky Time Lord senses. She mumbled something along the lines of a yes, and the door cracked open. The Doctor walked across the room, but she doesn't watch. She keeps her face buried, the shame and the guilt too heavy to look anyone in the eye.

When the Doctor laid down next to Rose, cuddled her up into spooning position, she thought she might die. She hadn't expected tenderness from him, not after the way she'd been behaving. She'd expected anger or aloofness or maybe a few rude remarks, but never spooning.

"Are ya gonna talk to me, my Rose?" Whispers, because that's what they do when they're in delicate times.

"Don't even know where to begin." It's the truth, she thinks. How can she start telling him all the crazy, horrible things she's been thinking?

"Could start with how ya feel, right this moment."

"Like a failure." More sniffles, more whispers.

"What? That's mad. You're the Defender of the Earth, most brilliant woman in the universe." He clasped his hand around hers, trying to be comforting.

"'m not. 'm selfish." She bit her lip, worried about the admission.

"Nah. I know what you want, Rose. It's not selfish. It's natural. Everyone wants it, every livin' being wants to be loved, and you're well within your rights to want it." He kissed her hair.

"It feels like it's been so long t' me, Doctor. I know it doesn't seem tha' way t' you, but 'tis to me." Rose whispered, taking a deep breath to steady the hysterical tears that are threatening her.

"I know. I should've been more sensitive to your perception of time." Arms tighter around her.

"Doctor, ya shouldn't 'ave to rush and be untrue to yourself 'cause o' me." Sniffles, some choking sobs. "I wonder if..." Hysterical.

"You wonder what, Rose?" She can feel his hearts beating through his jumper, feel them on her back.

"If we're not right fo' each other." And then her sobbing begins, full body shaking, and he just held her because the Doctor had no idea what else to do.

* * *

She couldn't mean that. She had promised! He doubted her promises sometimes, always carried self-doubt with him, but in the end he truly thought she meant it when she said forever. She was his true love, his _it, _and she was leaving him before she even knew?

"'ve never wondered that, Rose." He makes his voice very quiet, and he doesn't know if she can hear him over the noise of her pain. He wanted to tell her, before she'd said that, that everything was okay. That he understood she was going through a hormone surge and was likely just feeling extra vulnerable. He wanted to tell her that this was his fault for dragging out something that has been clear to him for nearly the entire two years. He wanted to come in the room and hold her and kiss her, get them fixed up. But he'd never expected those words. Not out of Rose. His Rose.

"Do ya mean that?" He whispered. She didn't answer him, just sobbed like a small child. "Rose, I...I don't know what t' say." And he does know what to say. He knows that this is The Moment, it must be, because he can feel their time-lines separating and moving apart, and everything in his body shouts at him to FIX THIS, fix it because there is nothing more wrong than the Doctor without Rose.

"Rose, please. Look at me." He plead, and Rose twists in his arms, bringing her red eyes and streaked cheeks and puffy nose to look at him. She looked so pathetic, so sad and small and young, that he can't say it. He can't commit his beautiful, child-like woman to a lifetime of his garbage and baggage, not when she is clearly laying here asking him to let her go.

He let his face become impassive, knowing that if he were really going to give her the gift of walking away, that he'd have to be convincing. He'd have to pretend. He'd have to bury away the fact that his heart was petrifying and his soul dimming just by the thought of leaving her.

"Rose. My Rose...you deserve a man. A man who can love you." He saw the horror in her eyes, knew she was doubting even this—his Rose, always doubting him for better or worse. The ring box dug into his hip, and the Doctor sighed.

"You...you don't then? You really don't love me?" Rose's mouth hung open, and he sensed the increase in her pulse, saw the panic in her beautiful brown eyes. But...but she'd said it. He could dismiss everything, put them back together, but not if she felt that way. If there was even the smallest chance that Rose didn't think they could be together, he had to give her an out.

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. Not her lips. Oh, not those lips. He loved those lips, couldn't stand to touch them if it was going to be his last. He unfolded himself from her body, pulled his gangly self out of the bed, and everything seemed like it was happening in slow motion. Rose just laid there, staring at him, disbelief on her face. Ah, they always do that, don't they? Say something horrific and then act shocked when someone takes them seriously. But this was right. This was okay. She had given him enough of her precious life, deserved to go find someone who she could give the rest to and actually deserve it.

He stood in her doorway and looked at her once more. She sat up then, her mouth still open without words coming out. And then the Doctor did something that broken his own hearts, shattered him to his core. He walked out the door.

* * *

The Doctor leaving is the last thing that Rose expected, and also the furthest thing from a surprise she can think of. She'd been expecting this all along, hasn't she? She always knew she wasn't enough for the Doctor, for the Oncoming Storm. She'd always known that at some point he wouldn't be able to take the way her eyes were getting a little creased at the corners, or the way she was eventually going to wrinkle and wither. She'd always expected that he was attracted to her youth and her beauty, and not her soul.

Rose stood up and went to the door he had just walked through. He was gone already. The sobs were still coming out of her, but Rose hardly noticed. She cried with absolute abandon and yet she didn't register it as she went to her front door, stepped outside, doubled over the railing and watched him step into the TARDIS. She thought he turned a little, probably at the noise she was making, but he went inside. She waited for the noise, waited to see the love of her life fly away, but nothing happened. The engines stayed silent, and a shimmer of hope ran through her. This was just a mistake. He was inside the TARDIS wishing he'd just told her. He did love her, he was just having trouble. And Rose swore to herself that if he just said it, if he would just admit that what they had was real, she could face anything. Wiping her nose on her sleeve, Rose ran down the steps. She stumbled as she got to the bottom step and raced across the pavement.

And then the engines started.

* * *

**A/N: I'm sorry, I know this was rough. I'm not feeling very emotionally stable after writing that, either. God, don't you just want to smash their heads together?! **

**More soon. Stay tuned, loves. **

**xox Emmy**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: This is the last one. Prepare yourselves. **

* * *

The Doctor spun around, his back to the monitor. He saw her coming down the stairs, he saw her running towards the TARDIS, saw the tears and heard the hollow shrieks coming from her. The noise ripped him apart, and he was sure it would be the sound that haunted him now when he tried to close his eyes and look for sleep. What was he supposed to do? Go back, drag this out longer, let her break his hearts all over again? Break her heart, too?

So many mistakes. The Doctor slid to the floor and buried his head in his hands, his body flooded with pain, guilt, anger. He was to blame here, always. The Time Lord who let the love of his life walk away, no-pushed her away, broke her heart, shredded her spirit and why? Because he was a coward. All he had to do was say it—tell her, and it might have fixed things. Might have soothed her, but what about her doubts? They were real, honest to gods doubts about the validity of the two of them together, about her believing in him, about her believing in them, together. He was giving her a chance here. A real chance unlike any he'd ever offered her before when they fought. He wasn't just telling her that she needed to go find someone who could give her what she needed, he wasn't just making empty remarks while he was upset or feeling guilty. He was giving her a real and perfect chance to walk away from him. And when she'd come running down the stairs, refusing to even have a go of it, he had to leave. He had to make sure she took her chance, or he'd wonder every day after if he had stolen her away.

The ring box in his pocket felt like a stone and he wanted to throw it through a window and shout at the top of his lungs, but he was still a coward. The Moment seemed to be fading, he could feel it detaching from his time line. He let his tears stream down his cheeks, secure with the fact that no one could see him, would never see him, that he was alone. Utterly alone.

* * *

Rose collapsed on the pavement, her face falling to her knees as she sobbed. Body shaking, she knew what she must look like to the nosy neighbors who were by now ruffling their curtains and looking about, trying to catch a glimpse of the bloke that Rose had been chasing. Oh, she was a right wreck. She clutched her chest, pressing her fingers over her heart, and willed it to stop hurting. Breathing was hard enough without him there, she didn't think she could stand to do it with a heart this broken too.

There had been so many good times! She had helped him save so many planets, save so many species. She had helped save him more than once, too. And then there were the soft moments, all those times they enjoyed just the two of them without any danger or peril. She thought of the tattoo of a rose on his skin, and how he'd later whispered in her ear about this body being hers forever. Sobbing still, she thought of the times he called her little nicknames, always trying to find the perfect one and having not yet succeeded (he'd called her sugar, doll, baby cakes, and pumpkin, discarding them all because he said they were incapable of expressing how much she meant to him). If she meant so much, why was she here, on the pavement, alone?

Was this the end? Rose tried to get her crying under control, bit her fist as her body shook with tremors. This was not their ending, it couldn't be. This was not what she meant to happen when she said what she said. Hadn't every girl ever said something dumb in the heat of the moment? But...he wasn't just some bloke. He was the Doctor, and every word out of her mouth meant truth to him. He was pretty good at predicting her actions, could tell when she was about to get angry or when she might be about to wander off and get into some trouble, but he didn't know how to read her—didn't know what it meant when she sighed heavily or when she laughed at the way he handled himself sometimes—for the Doctor, her words were how he read her. And she'd gone and told him that they didn't belong together.

She didn't mean it. Her stomach hurt with how much she didn't mean it, but she'd said it. She had told her Doctor that they might not be right for each other even after all the times he had bared his soul to her, all the times he had pressed love into her skin with his fingers and his lips and his eyes. He had given her more than he'd ever given anyone, even his own wife!, and she was selfish enough to say that to him.

Jackie was the one to finally pick the pieces of Rose up, not the Doctor. She'd sighed heavily and heaved her daughter off the ground, supported her as they stumbled toward the stairs, into the flat. Jackie, bless her, didn't ask questions. A hot mug of tea, her favorite brown blanket, and Rose sat on the couch desolate. She remembered her first break up with Eddie Reeves when she was 13, and how Jackie had done exactly this for her. And when Jimmy Stone left her at 17, Rose had sat here with the same blanket and mug and let her life become detached from her. She'd dated Mickey and worked in the shop and forgotten about her A levels and life had started passing her by. Was still passing her by right up until the day he she had met him. And Rose hated that. Hated that she was so weak that she'd been swept up by a man she hardly knew, let him define her life, and then pushed him away when she didn't get what she wanted.

Regret. Why hadn't she told him she loved him at all today? It was surely true, still. She loved him more than her mind comprehended these days, but she hadn't said it. She'd been feeling neglected and stubborn, had been trying to figure out if she could hang in there for another ten or twenty years without him saying it—and it was ridiculous. It'd been two years, not ten. Two measly years of amazing times, wonderful experiences, and deep passion and she acted like they were long and torturous. Oh, the anger at herself was deep and bright red behind her eyes. And him! He'd given up on her, just like that! He'd just walked out that door, hardly a word. They were Rose Tyler and the Doctor, and their ending, if they were to have one, was not going to be like this.

Wiping her face with the tissues that Jackie had left beside her on the sofa, Rose decided she was not going to let this go. She loved him, and she had to know, absolutely had to hear him say that he didn't love her, and then she could move on. She fumbled around her pocket until the mobile fell out, and Rose swallowed her heart.

She counted the rings. By the seventh, she was crying again, shook from the idea that he wouldn't even talk to her. But on the twelfth ring, she heard his breathing.

"Doctor." She choked out, using both hands to hold the little phone to her face. "Doctor, I love you." She bit her lip, waited.

"Rose Tyler, you said..." He sounded so tired, so old.

"Forget what I said. This is the truth, Doctor. I love you and I have t' know if you love me. Jus' tell me. Tell me." Courage that she hardly knew was there propelled the words out of her mouth.

And then silence. A tear hit the corner of her mouth. He did. She knew he did. Didn't he?

"You need to go live a life, Rose. Go live a fantastic life." She heard his voice choke, and he couldn't hide his feelings even over the phone.

"No! Get back here, Doctor. You owe me this. You owe me this!" Rose stood, dropping her blanket, her mug of tea rolling across the carpet. "Come back here!" Shrieking, because she had no other way, no other mode, her body wrecked and savaged and broken with this. He didn't respond, and Rose kept whimpering, not sure if he was listening, not sure if she was even still connected.

"Rose Tyler, you are m'world. M'family. M'hearts. But...the differences between us are too great. Too large." He stopped to take a breath, and rage swallowed Rose whole.

"No. Shut your alien mouth. 've only got what, 70 years left—maybe 80, and blimey Doctor I want t' spend them wit' you! No one else."

The sound of the TARDIS engines were music, harmony, peace. The blue doors stood in front of her, in her living room.

* * *

He felt The Moment stretching before him when the phone rang, knew it was her, knew there was still the possibility...But he had to be strong. Had to give her this chance and if she really wanted him back, really and honestly and absolutely was sure that she still wanted him, well...

The truth was that the Doctor was a wreck. 900 years and he had no idea how to love someone, how to give them what they needed, and Rose was a perfect example of that. He loved her but she still doubted him, still questioned everything about them. The sound of her voice on the other line made his hearts constrict, beat faster, slow way down, as if his body was controlled by her. She said the words again, a melody to his mind, and he nearly lost it. Oh, he needed her. Needed her. He tried to tell her, but...but he'd fumbled.

"No. Shut your alien mouth. I've only got what, 70 years left—maybe 80, and blimey Doctor I want to spend them wit' you! No one else." Her words slapped him across the face and he found himself stumbling around, flipping switches with the sound of Rose's pain echoing through the TARDIS.

He didn't rush out. He'd come to her, come back to her. He watched her in the monitor standing in the living room, and he felt sick with how upset she looked. How her hair was a mess and her face was streaked and she had such a hollow look about her, though it'd only been an hour or two.

Rose opened the door slowly, and he felt their time lines mingling, felt haziness sweeping about them as their potential futures changed. He gripped the console for steadiness, aware that this was it. This was either the end or the beginning, and as she walked up the ramp the Doctor remembered every single time she had ever walked up that ramp. Every time she had ever smiled at him in this room, ever kissed him by the console, ever told him she'd loved him on the jump seat. The TARDIS hummed comfortingly, and the Doctor forced himself to meet her eyes. Forced himself to keep his face under control.

"Well?" She stood on the other side of the console, gripped the top herself, steadying her body, and he wondered if her legs were as weak as his. He wondered if she felt madness and chaos and love swarming through her heart the way he felt it in his. He wondered so much that he didn't realize she'd spoken, didn't quite understand the look she was giving him with those big eyes.

"Doctor." She looked ready to fall down, and he couldn't have stopped himself if he'd wanted to. He was there, holding her, pressing her head against his chest in their familiar way. She gripped his jacket and looked up at him, and he would have sworn that he saw a supernova in her eyes.

"Rose Tyler, I do love you. Have always loved you." Whispers, and then crashing. Mouths kissing mouths, lips pressed together in painful bliss. And he was overcome, absolutely taken over, a possessed man when he dropped down in front of her. Not himself, but a Time Lord in love, a man, Rose's man, when he pulled the little box out.

And it didn't matter if she doubted him, he decided, because he would spend the rest of her life easing those doubts. Her hands on his face, Rose dropping down too. On their knees on the grating, he fumbled around, trying to open the box, his large hands uncoordinated. And he could hear her gasping, could feel her shaking when he finally opened the box, took the ring out, and found her eyes.

The image of her face at that moment would be his dying thought. He memorized it, cataloged it: her trembling lips, her wide eyes, her flushed cheeks. She could turn gray and wrinkled and have trouble running and he would still see this face when he looked at her. He loved this face, loved this girl.

The ring slid on her finger neatly, and she didn't have to say anything. She didn't have to whisper _yes yes yes yes _into his ear, but he liked it that she did. She didn't have to climb into his lap and bury her face in his neck, but it was comforting. And The Moment was there, and they were in it, and Rose Tyler was his.

He carried her to the bedroom, their bedroom, and she kept her arms wrapped around his neck, unwilling to ever let him go. He held her around the bottom, carried her tenderly, afraid that if he rushed he would act on the panic rising in his body. His Rose.

* * *

Rose untangled her limbs from him as he sat her on the bed, wiped her tear stained cheeks with the back of her hand. Watched him drop to his knees again, this time in front of the bed, and she wrapped her legs right back around him, pulling his mouth to hers, scratching her nails lightly down his neck. When he kissed her, Rose's body sighed internally, unwinding from the turmoil of the day. She had nearly lost him, nearly lost the love of her life, and she said a small thanks to the universe for sending him back.

Their lips were soft and shy, like they hadn't done this a hundred times. She pulled back from his mouth gently and held his face in her hands.

"I love you." A murmur meant just for him. His hands came up around her own face, mirroring her movements.

"And I love you." A breath of words, and suddenly their mouths met again, greedy. She shoved at his jacket and he ripped at her blouse, their bodies scooting up the bed as they tore garments away. Rose kicked swiftly at his trousers, and he helped her. His erection finally unclothed, Rose took him in her hand and kissed his mouth with everything she could manage. She felt him quiver and sigh, and then released him to remove her remaining bits.

Naked, they sat on their knees facing each other, mouths nipping here and there, desperate but hesitant. Rose pressed on his chest gently and he sat down, his hands on her back, bringing her close. She climbed into his lap and pressed her forehead against his, her arousal a tense ball of energy in her stomach that she needed to release but couldn't yet. Not quite.

"Say it again." Tender, nearly silent moments between them.

"I love you, Rose. 've always loved you." His voice is rough and needy and there is no sadness when she meets his eyes. She knows that he's passed the control. She knows that she is the one driving this, she is the one that is holding them between the two places, between separate and whole.

"I love you, too, Doctor." She lets her tongue into his mouth again, her fingers running up and down his chest. But it's the Doctor who does it. His hands rest on her hips, and she could cry for joy when she feels him pressing softly, pulling her down, and they gasp into the others' mouth when he enters her. A fullness she has never known sweeps through her, and she breaks the kiss. Looks him in the eye, and it's the first time she has never seen that little blip of hesitation that always told her he wanted to run. She moves her body into him, experimenting with the feeling of him, and he groans a delicious groan.

"Rose. You're amazing. Perfect. Beautiful. My Rose." He stutters, his eyes never breaking contact with hers, and lets her move them. She raises up slowly and lowers again, her body wild with need and love. They find their rhythm gradually, and the words stop. They communicate in pants and grunts and sighs and thrusts, and nothing has ever made more sense.

* * *

Epilogue

There's a grassy knoll and a sky full of puffy clouds and a solid stone church like the one they saw so long ago. There's people and aliens and laughter. There's tears and kisses and vows. Someone ties cans to the door of the TARDIS, and everyone laughs. A mother kisses her daughter's cheek. A daughter says goodbye, says she's never been happier.

The adventures continue for years. Planets saved, enemies of the universe eradicated, a bed well used. Entire species pass down stories of the Doctor and his wife, and she is a part of history forever, as she was always meant to be.

Hair changes color, only slightly at first, and then more. Skin sags and a Time Lord kisses his wife like she is but 21, not 61. The TARDIS rests in the garden, and they laugh because he's the one who looks young now. Their bodies move together with familiarity, and they love and love and love.

A Time Lord buries his wife in London after an anniversary. He's not alone, worlds of friends expect to see him soon, to comfort him after the inevitable, but he can't leave their bedroom. Can't stop rearranging her perfumes.

And he hates endings, hates this ending, but he's so glad to have had it at all.

* * *

**A/N: My hope for this story is that you'll put it in your favorites list, come back and re-read your favorite parts when you need to. I loved writing it, and it's helped me through a really tough time in my personal life, as have all of you. Please leave me your final thoughts.  
**

**xoxoxoxoxo Emmy **


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